This …. well … could have happened.
There I am, standing at the kitchen sink, my glass at the ready under the faucet, desiring nothing more than some cool water to slake an honest man’s thirst.
Then … nothing.
Not a drop.
Sometimes the faucet at work is a little balky, and it helps when I wave the glass under the nozzle a few times. I do so now, at home.
I don’t understand what’s going on, so I call my wife over, seeking her wise counsel.
“Look,” I say, wiggling the glass under the tap a bit more emphatically. “Nothing is coming out … and I’m thirsty.”
“Hmmmm,” she says, rubbing a pretty chin, “I believe I see the solution to your difficulty.”
I look at her in amazement, impressed that she could solve the problem so quickly. She went on.
“Do you see those two knobs on either side of the spout?”
I reply that I could see them clearly.
“Well,” she says, “if you want cold water to come out of that faucet, it will require that you move the knob on the right in a counterclockwise direction.”
“The devil you say!”
“No, really,” she says encouragingly. “Try it.”
I do, bringing forth a torrent like Moses upon the rock at Horeb.
Fascinated, I try the same method with the knob on the left, but it won’t budge.
“No, dear,” says my bride, “that one you must turn clockwise.”
“What sorcery is this?” I murmur.
But sure enough, when I follow her instructions to the letter, warm and increasingly hot water flows from the tap.
“Everything OK now?” this jewel among women asks.
“I’m not rightly sure,” I say. “It sure seems like a lot to remember — counterclockwise on the right, clockwise on the left. That’s a whole lot of work for just a glass of water.”