Mommy's Quiet Time
It's Heads or Tails time again and today's theme is EDGE - "Any Past Theme." As I perused through the list, I found a great one,
#62 Tell A Scary Story (real or otherwise)!
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I've heard veteran mom's say that the shower is the time when they get to be alone; a mommy quiet time! When they're not having to serve milk on demand or wipe bottoms, or clean up messes.
I don't think my kids got the memo.
When I get in the shower, most of the time, it's more like a cross between a Freak Show and the Discovery Zone. It begins harmlessly enough. I plop both kids in front of the TV, each with a drink (in a sippy cup of course) in my bedroom, while I run, like a maniac, to the bathroom and quickly lock the door. Then I turn the shower on figuring if I can't hear it, then it's not happening. As I start to lather up my face with my face wash and aren't capable of opening my eyes, I hear the small knock at the door. I ignore it. It's followed by a louder knock and the slightly discernible voice of my daughter.
"Mama!!! I have to go potty!" I can hear the dancing in her voice. She has to go pretty badly...darned sippy cup!
As I begin to pray to the shower gods to make her disappear, I grudgingly unlock the door. Fortunately, or unfortunately, our shower is right next to the door. I promised myself I'd kill the idiot who built our bathroom if I ever met him... It was built as an afterthought really, it's the size of a linen closet! That's a scary story in itself!
BG marches into the bathroom and sits on the potty. Behind my soap-covered face, I remind her NOT TO FLUSH! She snidely replies, "I KNOW!" She knows she's untouchable! Argh!
She closes the lid and washes her hands. As she's walking out the door, Buddy walks in! Having figured out that his sister is no longer propped next to him on the bed, he ventured to look for her. And what should he find but the door to the bathroom, propped slightly open. Couldn't he have waited just a few more seconds?!?!
This is when the freak show begins. He walks in, leaving the door wide open for anyone else who should wish to enter to do so (I imagine the Alfred Hitchcock scene with the girl behind the curtain). Buddy peaks between the shower curtains. He smiles really big and looks me in the eye. He says, "Hi-iiiiiiii!" as if he hasn't seen me in a long time!
Did the hairy lady with too many stretch marks in all the wrong places behind the curtain sign up to be gaped at by a two-year-old? I don't think so! I feel like the guy at the circus with eleven toes and nine fingers! What!! I wasn't born this way. It's all your fault, I tell him! YOU did this to me!!
The gawking is brief since there is exploring to be done! The lure of the bathroom is strong. And so the discovery zone begins. There are items on a ledge in front of the shower. They are all the accoutrements for his daily maintenance and grooming; his tooth brush, the baby toothpaste, the booger sucker, the baking soda in a bottle, his comb, and the baby soap. These items are on the ledge because they provide easy access for our morning and nightly rituals. When there is no one in the bathroom, the door is always locked, mainly because he knows how to open it and it is simply too dangerous in there for such a curious mind. The hinges for this door are on the inside. I'd have to puncture the door to get inside! Nor do I relish having my personal belongings flushed down the toilet.
So, Buddy begins his exploration. He grabs the booger sucker and proceeds to jam it up his nose. In my foresight, I powerlessly yell at him, "Buddy, put that down, it's not a toy!"
Seconds before the tip reaches his brain, he willingly obliges and puts it down, moving onto the next item. He pretends to pour out the baking soda from the bottle, he picks up the baby soap and tries to open the lid. Then he picks up the toothpaste and begins to untwist the lid. Argh!! He is capable of opening this one! I picture buckets of diarrhea from having ingested too much toothpaste. I picture the poison control sticker on our phone and try to remember the number!
I can't take it anymore. I'm supposed to be washing my hair, not supervising his demise! I say as sternly as I can muster, "Buddy, get out of the bathroom. Go watch TV with BG."
He stops for a moment. Then, he slowly walks over to the door and opens it, still with the toothpaste tube in his little hands. Is he really leaving? Just as I start to think that the shower gods were listening, he closes it again and says "nooooooooooh."
As he walks back over, something else catches his eye. He drops the almost opened toothpaste. He walks over to the trash can. He curiously looks inside. In my mind's eye, I see what he sees. I watch in horror and slow motion as he pulls out a used Q-tip and begins to move it towards his ear! In my mind the scary music starts playing in the background. I see the blood dripping from his ear as he punctures the ear drum... I hear the ambulance blaring and I see myself crying as the paramedics bust down the front door to get in!
Soaking wet and now dripping shampoo, I am across the room in a second, flat (that's how small our bathroom is - and you thought I was kidding!). I rip the Q-tip from his hand before it reaches his head. Isternly hysterically say NO and I unceremoniously usher him out of the room. 
As I Iock the door behind him, I can hear his pathetic bellow from behind the door. It is so loud and so abrupt that for a moment I wonder if maybe I shut his finger in the door. My mind is now racing. The floor is wet, I have shampoo in my eyes, the trash can is tipped over and my son's finger might be a permanent door fixture. Maybe I caught his toe under the door?
I don't relent. I would have felt a body part get caught in the jam, I tell myself. I hop back in the shower. I open up my "soothing bath gel." I apply a lot of it on my loofah sponge. I try to breathe slower. I breathe in the scent of refreshing apple and honeysuckle. I breathe out. I tell myself to remember to flush the toilet when I get out and I say a quick little prayer for Buddy's toe, just in case!
Where is Hubs during all this, you ask? At work! Lucky Dog!
Scene from "Home For the Holidays " - 1995 - Holly Hunter
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Have a great week, ya'll! And please, appreciate your time alone in the shower for me!
#62 Tell A Scary Story (real or otherwise)!
I've heard veteran mom's say that the shower is the time when they get to be alone; a mommy quiet time! When they're not having to serve milk on demand or wipe bottoms, or clean up messes.
I don't think my kids got the memo.
When I get in the shower, most of the time, it's more like a cross between a Freak Show and the Discovery Zone. It begins harmlessly enough. I plop both kids in front of the TV, each with a drink (in a sippy cup of course) in my bedroom, while I run, like a maniac, to the bathroom and quickly lock the door. Then I turn the shower on figuring if I can't hear it, then it's not happening. As I start to lather up my face with my face wash and aren't capable of opening my eyes, I hear the small knock at the door. I ignore it. It's followed by a louder knock and the slightly discernible voice of my daughter.
"Mama!!! I have to go potty!" I can hear the dancing in her voice. She has to go pretty badly...
As I begin to pray to the shower gods to make her disappear, I grudgingly unlock the door. Fortunately, or unfortunately, our shower is right next to the door. I promised myself I'd kill the idiot who built our bathroom if I ever met him... It was built as an afterthought really, it's the size of a linen closet! That's a scary story in itself!
BG marches into the bathroom and sits on the potty. Behind my soap-covered face, I remind her NOT TO FLUSH! She snidely replies, "I KNOW!" She knows she's untouchable! Argh!
She closes the lid and washes her hands. As she's walking out the door, Buddy walks in! Having figured out that his sister is no longer propped next to him on the bed, he ventured to look for her. And what should he find but the door to the bathroom, propped slightly open. Couldn't he have waited just a few more seconds?!?!
This is when the freak show begins. He walks in, leaving the door wide open for anyone else who should wish to enter to do so (I imagine the Alfred Hitchcock scene with the girl behind the curtain). Buddy peaks between the shower curtains. He smiles really big and looks me in the eye. He says, "Hi-iiiiiiii!" as if he hasn't seen me in a long time!
Did the hairy lady with too many stretch marks in all the wrong places behind the curtain sign up to be gaped at by a two-year-old? I don't think so! I feel like the guy at the circus with eleven toes and nine fingers! What!! I wasn't born this way. It's all your fault, I tell him! YOU did this to me!!
The gawking is brief since there is exploring to be done! The lure of the bathroom is strong. And so the discovery zone begins. There are items on a ledge in front of the shower. They are all the accoutrements for his daily maintenance and grooming; his tooth brush, the baby toothpaste, the booger sucker, the baking soda in a bottle, his comb, and the baby soap. These items are on the ledge because they provide easy access for our morning and nightly rituals. When there is no one in the bathroom, the door is always locked, mainly because he knows how to open it and it is simply too dangerous in there for such a curious mind. The hinges for this door are on the inside. I'd have to puncture the door to get inside! Nor do I relish having my personal belongings flushed down the toilet.
So, Buddy begins his exploration. He grabs the booger sucker and proceeds to jam it up his nose. In my foresight, I powerlessly yell at him, "Buddy, put that down, it's not a toy!"
Seconds before the tip reaches his brain, he willingly obliges and puts it down, moving onto the next item. He pretends to pour out the baking soda from the bottle, he picks up the baby soap and tries to open the lid. Then he picks up the toothpaste and begins to untwist the lid. Argh!! He is capable of opening this one! I picture buckets of diarrhea from having ingested too much toothpaste. I picture the poison control sticker on our phone and try to remember the number!
I can't take it anymore. I'm supposed to be washing my hair, not supervising his demise! I say as sternly as I can muster, "Buddy, get out of the bathroom. Go watch TV with BG."
He stops for a moment. Then, he slowly walks over to the door and opens it, still with the toothpaste tube in his little hands. Is he really leaving? Just as I start to think that the shower gods were listening, he closes it again and says "nooooooooooh."
As he walks back over, something else catches his eye. He drops the almost opened toothpaste. He walks over to the trash can. He curiously looks inside. In my mind's eye, I see what he sees. I watch in horror and slow motion as he pulls out a used Q-tip and begins to move it towards his ear! In my mind the scary music starts playing in the background. I see the blood dripping from his ear as he punctures the ear drum... I hear the ambulance blaring and I see myself crying as the paramedics bust down the front door to get in!
Soaking wet and now dripping shampoo, I am across the room in a second, flat (that's how small our bathroom is - and you thought I was kidding!). I rip the Q-tip from his hand before it reaches his head. I
As I Iock the door behind him, I can hear his pathetic bellow from behind the door. It is so loud and so abrupt that for a moment I wonder if maybe I shut his finger in the door. My mind is now racing. The floor is wet, I have shampoo in my eyes, the trash can is tipped over and my son's finger might be a permanent door fixture. Maybe I caught his toe under the door?
I don't relent. I would have felt a body part get caught in the jam, I tell myself. I hop back in the shower. I open up my "soothing bath gel." I apply a lot of it on my loofah sponge. I try to breathe slower. I breathe in the scent of refreshing apple and honeysuckle. I breathe out. I tell myself to remember to flush the toilet when I get out and I say a quick little prayer for Buddy's toe, just in case!
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Where is Hubs during all this, you ask? At work! Lucky Dog!
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please click the button! Have a great week, ya'll! And please, appreciate your time alone in the shower for me!
If my 4 year old discovers I'm in the bathtub he tries to strip and hop in. LOL
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Oh my! I remember those days!
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I laughed all the way through this!!! I remember those days sooo well and am glad I don't have them anymore. Or do I? Hmm..
I used to tell my kids that unless someone was bleeding or dying, I didn't want to be bothered. I guess running their fingers under the door didn't count. Or trying to make exceptions to the rule by telling me so-and-so did this-or-that.
I also remember the don't flush thing! LOL!!!
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Still laughing, although I can remember the absolutely horror of those days - the fear of something bad happening because of a quick shower. Well told!
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Yep. Been there, done that ... within the last few weeks actually. Nicely told!
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I loved this so much I just came to read it to my husband. He was ROFL!!!
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This scene is familiar to me. I remembered a scene in a television like this but not totally. Yes, this is time where a mother is quiet because she will not mind for anyone but for herself only.
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