Posted by: Modern Mom | May 31, 2014

Speed Showering

My husband teases me about the ‘exciting’ things I do when he takes the boys away. One of the things I love to do is take a shower. I know. I’m living the life inspired. Try to hold back your jealousy. But the thought of having an uninterrupted shower, without rushing, and using up all the hot water just for me, is delightful. This is why.

A normal shower for me starts with me warning the boys that I am planning to take a shower and that there will be dire consequences for the boy who dares to interrupt me with trifle things. “I don’t want to be interrupted with owies, tattling, snack or food requests. Any news unrelated to bleeding or the house being on fire is of no concern to me.” They appear to be listening, but appearances can be deceiving. “Do you understand?” They nod blankly, but I get the feeling they are appeasing me.

Minute 1: I get in the shower. I have approximately 5 minutes to wash and condition my hair, wash my body, wash my face, and shave. I have this down to a science. I wet my hair and wash my face at the same time. My face is covered in purple goo when the littlest boy comes in. “I have to poop!” GREAT. He can’t wipe himself, so guess who gets the honor? Lovely.

Side note about my youngest; He’s the fastest pooper in the world. Seriously. Land speed records have been slower. I shove my face into the streaming water and wash as fast as possible. OW! OW! Sulpher in my eyes! Darn this expensive face wash crap!

I hear my summons 2 seconds after he enters the room, “I need help!” Awesome. So I step from my nice warm shower out into the cold bathroom, where he has left the door open of course, dripping a trail across the floor to the toilet. I help him and tell him to wash his hands and get out. “And for God’s sake, shut the door!”

Minute 2: Of all the times he chooses to finally listen to me and use warm water instead of cold, this is the one. As I am enjoying the warm water and soaping my hair a chilling burst of water hits me. “WESTON!” I shriek, “That’s enough. Get. Out.” He does. But of course he leaves the door hanging wide open. *sigh* I yell after him but he is already outside. And he has shut THAT door. Figures. So I get out of the shower again and close the door.

Minute 3: Did I wash my hair? Shoot. I can’t remember. Probably not. So I soap my hair for the second time. I wonder why I go through shampoo so fast? I am able to get conditioner in my hair before the oldest boy, the informant, comes in to tattle on his brother. He barges in at a breakneck pace and immediately slips on the wet floor.

Once again I am out of the shower, dripping wet and freezing, to help the injured boy. I kiss the boo-boo, calm him down, and send him on his way. I grab a towel and wipe up the wet floor to prevent further injury. I get back in the shower.

Minute 4: The Informant is back. He had forgotten to tattle on his brother. Something about hitting. Blah blah blah. GET. OUT. I will deal with that when I am DONE!

I am pretty sure I have washed my hair, so now I begin to shave. Swipe, swipe, swipe. I quickly shave my pits, disregarding any missed spots, or skin shaved off, and move on to my legs. It’s coming up on summer, after all, and one should really be able to wear shorts without being mistaken for Sasquatch. I know it’s pushing it to try and fit this in during my shower sprint, but sacrifices must be made. It’s for the public good.

Minute 5: What’s that? OH. NO. I hear crying. It’s coming my way. I quickly run the razor with blatant disregard for life and limb. The little one comes barging in, the door flies open and creates a strong – very cold – breeze. Goosebumps raise immediately and suddenly I am lopping off little round bumps and leaving a trail of red holes. At this point I have lost any patience I once had. “WHAT!?” I put extra emphasis on the T as a warning to the boy that he is treading on my last nerve.

“Moooom! The dog is chasing my lawnmower!” he cries. I am about to lose it. That darn dog is an added stressor that I just don’t need. And now he’s interfering with my shower as well? That dog is going to mysteriously vanish one day. Today, probably. “Tell your brother to put the dog away!” I say through gritted teeth. “Go away!” He turns to leave and I remind him, “SHUT. THE. DOOR.”

I stand in the warm water. Defeated. Trying to remember what leg I was on, when I hear the door open again. “GET. THE. HECK. OUT!” I yell. Mama has HAD IT. I swear whoever just opened that door is a dead man. I hear nothing. The door is still open. I peek out and the stupid cat is sitting outside the shower staring at me.

Well, I might as well get out now since I have to shut the door anyway. I probably left a line or two of hair on my legs. Perhaps I missed an entire leg. Whatever. It will go nicely with the line of red dots. Thank God that long skirts are in style. If you see me wearing one, you’ll know why.

So I turn off the water and step out of the shower. The cat starts purring. I scowl at him. I am sure he did this on purpose to pay me back for forgetting to feed him right away this morning. Cats are conniving like that. I begin to dry off. My hand touches my hair and I realize that I forgot to wash the conditioner out of it. *SIGH* I turn the water back on and step back in the shower to rinse my hair again.

In comes the oldest, “Mom! The dog is not listening to me!” I pretend not to hear him. I pretend not to exist. Please, God, make me disappear. But, sadly, I do not. And the child leans into the shower to be certain I heard him. He stares a little too long. I scowl at him. “GO. A. WAY.”

I dry myself and wrap the towel around me (I mean, I have neighbors. Again, it’s for the public good.) and go yell for the dog to come inside. I close the door behind the dog. I get dressed. I dry my hair. I start to wonder if my children have been abducted because, since I got out of the shower, there has not been one single interruption.


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