Mark KennedyView other columns by Mark Kennedy
My 9-year-old son decided his mother would enjoy a disco-inspired shower head for Christmas.
Actually, I egged him on. On a whirlwind (read, last-minute) trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond in Hixson before Christmas, my two sons and I literally raked items into our shopping cart. Scented candles, two back scratchers, a skin exfoliator, a white-noise machine, a Pittsburgh Steelers coffee mug.
You name it - no matter how random - we bought it.
But our pride and joy that day was a Shower Wow shower head (As Seen on TV!) that turns the water into little ribbons of pastel. The boys and I decided that Mommy would absolutely love it.
Actually, our 9-year-old son was the one who insisted Mommy would love it. I was convinced she would read the package on Christmas morning and shoot hot cocoa through her nose.
The pitch for the Shower Wow reads: "Turn your shower into an exciting and colorful experience with the Shower Wow LED Rainbow Shower Head. With seven vibrant colors powered by your water pressure, this shower head will transform your shower."
By the way, according to Google, "people who buy this" also like FabriClear Bed Bug Spray. (Kills bugs dead!)
Sure enough, when Mommy tore open her package on Christmas morning her heart was filled with awe and gratitude.
"What the heck?" she muttered.
Then, she began reading the package description, including this strange exhortation: "Fun for the whole family!"
I immediately got a mental image of all of us in our swimsuits, frolicking in the shower and having "an exciting and colorful experience" together, sort of like that time we went to see the Christmas lights at Rock City in a rainstorm.
Anyway, like any good novelty gift, the Shower Wow found its way into a corner of the family room, where it sat for several days, still in its box. Lonely.
Finally, my 9-year-old son begged me to install the Shower Wow in the boys' shower upstairs. Knowing he would nag me about this forever if I said no, I frowned and trudged dutifully up the staircase. To my amazement, the Shower Wow twisted on easily. Next, I turned on the water and the multi-colored LED lights shone as promised. I backed away, admiring my work.
A couple of days later, the boys began complaining that the upstairs shower was making a funny noise, as if the plumbing was inexplicably protesting against the Shower Wow. Normally, plumbing is pretty stoic, but you don't want to ignore its complaints and get on its bad side.
Taking a break from watching the NFL Channel last Sunday to investigate, I soon realized that, while the Shower Wow was easy to install, it never promised to be easy to de-install.
"Hey son, will you bring me a pair of vice grips?" I called to my 14-year-old downstairs as I tried to decouple the Shower Wow. A couple of minutes later he arrived with a one-inch wrench.
"Sorry, that's a wrench. I need the vice grips," I said.
He left and returned minutes later with a crescent wrench.
"That won't work, either," I said. "Look, just bring me the vice grips. You know, the VICE GRIPS."
He returned with a pair of tiny, needle-nose pliers.
"Son, go look in the garage," I said. "Look for a tool with two handles and bring it to me."
He returned from the garage filled with excitement.
"I found it," he exclaimed. At that point he handed me a blue plastic hand gripper, a piece of exercise equipment I last used in high school.
"No, no, no. This is no good. Vice grips. Locking pliers, son," I said. "They have two handles, an adjustment screw and teeth in the jaw."
"Another interesting fact brought to you by Mark Kennedy," my 9-year-old injected, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Whatever," I thought, squeezing the gripper in frustration.
I'm done, I thought. Enjoy the rainbow, boys.
The Shower Wow experiment is officially irreversible. If the noise continues to bother them, I will try to drown it out with a Bee Gees record.
Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645. Follow him on Twitter @TFPCOLUMNIST. Subscribe to his Facebook updates at www.facebook.com/mkennedycolumnist.