Confession time…. I don’t get to shower regularly. Okay, so I do get to take a whore’s bath every day (cleaning the vital areas for business), but only about twice a week do I get to luxuriate in a shower (for the ten minutes required to wash my hair and shave my legs). Otherwise it is just jumping in quickly to do the necessary.
So, let me set the scene. We have all had the flu this week and earlier in the day Baby Bird threw up on me more than once. It may be in my hair. I am super gross. I am really looking forward to this shower. My husband announces that he also needs a shower which he takes for about twenty –five blissful uninterrupted minutes.
When he finishes, I inform him that it is my turn. Z is entertained by Granny. Baby Bird is asleep. THIS IS MY MOMENT. I head off to the shower and hear my husband using his neti-pot it what can only be described as an ode to the memory of a dying whale. This was one minute into the shower.
At about a minute and a half, Baby Bird wakes up due to the tortured hunchback snorting in our bathroom. Seconds later, I feel cold air hit my backside and as I rinse the shampoo from my eyes quickly (it burns, it burns), I look down to see my husband holding the baby and sitting on the floor next to the open shower so we can “talk”.
I demand that the shower be closed. My request is met with reluctance and hostility. I look down and can see a pair of tiny hands on the glass like a scene from a horror movie trying to gain entry. Then she is licking the door.
At about three minutes in, Z comes running in screaming, “I peed in the POTTTTEEEEE.”
Folks, this isn’t news. She has been doing this for like six months intermittently, mostly for chocolate. She still expects us to receive it with the same excitement. It is getting old.
And on cue, at about four minutes, Granny comes in to hang out with the kids, so for the record, during my relaxing shower, both of my children, my husband, and now my Mother-in-Law are all chilling in the bathroom.
It was the best shower I have had all week.