I let the water run a little longer than I normally do, relishing in the serenity that it brought. Most nap times include a spot on the couch imprinted with my form. Too tired to do much else, I rest for what I know the second half of our day will bring me. But today, I let the water run over my tired back until it ran cold.
Later that evening, I exclaimed to my husband how it was probably the first time in 10 years that I had taken that long of a shower.
Being a mom of 3 busy-bodies, I keep my showering time to a minimum. To be quite frank, showering is not on the forefront of my mind most days. I've got lunches to pack, mouths to feed, things to sanitize, butts to wipe (sorry, its blunt.. but its the truth), and about 5 million other things running through my mind and hands to be too concerned with having impeccable hygiene. So, showering usually gets squeezed in at the last possible minute before we have to head out somewhere.
One particular day, we were in a rush to get somewhere. I took all normal precautions to insure minimal interruptions during my shower time. Security gate locked at top of stairs: Check. Movie turned on to encourage busy hands to be kept out of things: Check. Shower curtain closed, but door cracked to hear if the natives got restless: Check. Yada yada yada.
I had just worked the lather of my shampoo to a supreme level of awesomeness in my hair when I heard the tinkering of little hands going through something in my bathroom. I peeked ever so slyly around the curtain to see who was doing what.
Josiah, our youngest and only boy, had my toiletry/hygiene drawer open and was rummaging through it. With great care, he loosened the cap to my not-so-cheap moisturizer and proceeded to moisturize his face diligently. Oh, brother!
Choosing not to fight this particular battle, I returned to showering… only to hear more movement in the bathroom. Trying to use my diminishing time effectively, I continued with my shower routine while sneaking glances at the toddler who was grooming himself quite meticulously.
In the span of the next three minutes, my son deodorized himself, brushed his teeth (with my toothbrush mind you), and fixed himself a killer mohawk.
It was all so precious and cute. And then. Dear Lord… Surely he was done by now, right?
As I rinsed the conditioner from my hair, it got real quiet. I smirked to think that my 2 year old SON had gone through an entire hygiene routine, and not made a single mess.
I pulled back the shower curtain and let an audible gasp escape my mouth. Oh, heavens. He was so proud of himself, sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor, painting his toenails with painstaking detail in the prettiest ivory color.
Too bad his Mama frightened him and made him mess it all up with her shocked sudden intake of air!