It took me an eternity and many different scrubbing tools and cleaning concoctions. When all was said and done, I was wet with sweat and funky rinse water.
So I did the natural thing that anyone would do after completing a task like that. I posted about it on Facebook. (Anonymous from this post is calling me a stupid American right now).
I wrote that I thought women who cleaned their husband's showers should be awarded a medal or trophy of some sort.
The remark received lots of comments, the funniest of which came from my brother. If you like gross humor, you'll love this one. If you don't like gross humor, I apologize for his crass creativity. He's a clever one, that brother of mine...
I had forgotten about the Facebook exchange (and my sore shower-cleaning shoulder) until this past weekend when a mysterious package arrived in my mail. The return address was Washington DC and at first I thought maybe someone in the White House had sent me a collection of secret files to hide from the terrorists.
When I opened it, however, I discovered this:
This poses a serious problem. You see, I have no idea who to deliver my acceptance speech to. So I'm asking you for help, blog readers. If you have any idea who awarded me this gorgeous golden trophy, please contact me ASAP. Thanks and happy shower-scrubbing to you all.