Flooded Bathrooms & Tiny Jeans

Coffee was made without fluster, and definitely no armpit fires!
The day moves on, my oil and filter change was relatively trouble free except the mechanic forgot to buy a filter. Now I'm thinking ah crap. Its all downhill from there. But no, a quick visit to Bennets round the corner and back he comes! Change sorted! Wicked! (junglist massif).
I had a busy day on the road scheduled to visit my tribe of 5 dustbin lids (kids if you're not familiar with the term) but not all at the same place, 3 different places for that matter. Off I go to my eldest and youngest daughters flat where I was promised a long hot shower and ample space to trim my beard. After a quick chat I head off to the bathroom in awe of all the space! "look at me! My arms are stretched and no calamities are occurring!"

That was short lived...The beard trim was uneventful aside from accidently trimming an extra bit from one of my eyebrows but previous experience taught me how to even them up.
It was the shower. The shower ruined my day today. I reach through the curtain and turn the tap on without checking the direction of the flow which incidentally, was probably the most horizontal thing I've ever arranged in my life! No, it couldn't just point downwards like EVERY OTHER BLOODY SHOWER!
Now I'm unaware of the plight about to happen. A chain of events that led to utter embarrassment. I'm stark naked (don't get too excited ladies and gentlemen, it's a 45 year old dad bod that's seen many a battle with a surgeon. Battered and scarred) putting all of my pruning utensils back in my wash bag and suddenly my feet are wet.Confused, I look down. Yep wet. But why? I'm not even in the shower yet! Still looking down I'm looking for any sign of colour in water around my feet. "please don't tell me I've pissed myself and not even noticed"
Nope. It's clear. But why are my feet wet? Why are my neatly folded jeans on the floor that I've only just yesterday been able to fit back into wet? Dripping wet?
Oh for crying out loud, the shower! A splash across the bathroom, still in awe at the cavernous amount of space I have and there's the shower spraying millions of gallons per second all over the end wall where it was happily pouring into the bathroom floor...

Many expletives were said whilst I used every towel and scrap of material I could find to stem the flow!
My daughter calmly said "oh yeah, forgot to tell you about the shower!"Yeah cheers love. My jeans were dripping!
"it's cool beans dad, I'll put them in the washer/dryer machine thing. "My youngest daughter the poor cow has been blessed not only with her dad's fine sense of humour, but also my calamitiness I eventually succeed in having my shower whilst she chucks my jeans in to tumble dry. She emerges with a pair of her sisters boyfriends shorts. Now he's a strapping lad a physique I am envious of. But he's also half my width. I squeeze into his shorts and stand there looking like a teenager about to be examined by the big brawly school nurse.

"Why's the dryer spinning so fast Kayleigh?" I ask.
"dad, it's a washer dryer. That's what it does."
Now I've been around long enough to know that nothing is going to dry on a 1300 rpm spin...
"are you sure that's on dry?" 
Of course it isn't. It's on a lovely wash just because I'm standing there like an overweight shot putter clinging onto his Olympic bronze medal.
After a long wait, the machine from hell moves onto its dry cycle. Time stops for several years and I pile on many stones of fat. It must have because when my jeans came out they most definitely did not want to go back onto my body.
After some cursing and sweating and huffing, and 20 minutes of shovelling my boxers back out of my arse I get them on and look round to see my daughters in absolute hysterics at their dad stood there in what can only be described as denim coloured skin

My only thought was I've got go into Asda in these...