We have an outdoor shower next to our hot tub. Its hot and cold water faucets are reversed, so you have to rearrange your brain hemispheres before you can properly adjust the temperature.

If you look closely, you can see the dried conditioner streaks on the shaving mirror, disguised as Tesla Coil plasma rays sparking from my orbs of visual wonderment.

The little dancing Balinese guy is missing his partner. She's inside the house, convalescing in glue-assist mode, after a near fatal mishap during their slippery courtship.

As with most routine activities at our house, showering can be a unexpectedly thrilling experience.

And you never know who'll show up.