January 29, 2013
the paradox of the shower
Last night I was taking a shower after Pipsqueak was in bed and while my mom was putting Baby Swiss to bed.
i.e. There were no children in the bathroom.
I almost tweeted something about it after the fact (I don’t tweet in the shower), but I didn’t because A. I don’t like to tweet about instances where I’m not clothed and B. I don’t like to tweet anything that could be misconstrued as me not liking my kids.
Anyway, it was a good shower.
I don’t have very many showers where I’m not listening to Veggie Tales on the ipod and/or referee-ing and/or hopping out sopping wet to take someone potty when they don’t end up even going and/or well, you get the idea.
So, I was enjoying my quiet, alone time shower and thinking of all of the things that I wasn’t missing.
And darn it if I didn’t start missing those things.
I mean, they drive me crazy sometimes, but I don’t want to take them for granted because all of those things mean I have my little squirts and well, they drive me crazy sometimes, but I don’t want to take them for granted.