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Not all genes rub off. |
Returning the cap to the orange tube should've been the end of it, but it was me, all hands, clumsy, and irritated as I realized I'd screwed up the task. I mean, how hard is it to fill a crack with silicone at the bottom of a shower stall? Easy, right? That's what I thought until disaster struck. The string of my laces got caught in the clear goo and made an absolute mess, which I overlooked as the silicone was drying. I was so proud that I filled that crack without calling my father, the jack-of-trades kind of guy with whom everyone took advice and a helping hand. I have his genes; that innate ability to fix little things should've worn off on me. I watched him enough over the last two decades, being his helper as he repaired almost every broken object in our house. But it was not to be. When I turned in the cramped space of the shower stall and crouched to grab the tube and cap, I inadvertently untied my shoelace, which landed in the fresh silicone, leaving a trail of clear droplets all over the tiled floor. Only hours later, when I went to take my shoes off, I noticed the hardened glue on my shoes and rushed back to the bathroom to see my handy work. Now, had I actually purchased what my father recommended, this wouldn't have been a problem at all, but I don't like to wait—for anything. I was going to have that shower ready to use the same day, and I did that by buying the quick-dry silicone. I stood in the shower doorway, seeing several droplets of silicone on the tile, and that corner I was so desperate to plug was utterly void of the transparent substance. Info: ▼ |