the days of wine and roses

I remember when I used to work outside of the home. Granted, I barely remember it since I haven’t done it for sixteen years, but it’s still there in the dusty files toward the left corner of my right temporal lobe. I fired the housekeeper years ago during budget cuts. In those working days, I remember getting up and taking a shower then getting dressed and ready in a leisurely fashion.

Today, I was excited by the prospect of getting a shower. The husband was home, and I had grand illusions of actually de-griming at a snail’s pace. Laundry and childcare did get in the way of my schedule, but eventually I headed to the bathroom for a few minutes’ steamy solace.

Interruption #1 (husband): Knock knock knock?
Him: What are you doing?
Me: Taking a shower.
Him: (pause) Oh.

Interruption #2-#8
T: Mommy, what are you doing?
Me: Taking a shower.
T: Oh (sound of running sink water)

R: Hi mommy. What doin?
Me: Taking a shower.
R: Oh (continuing sound of running water)

T: Are you washing your hair?
Me: Yup
T: I’m playing with a boat.
Me: Oh

(sound of splashing water)

T: R, look, the car is trying to get the man.
R: My boat!

T: Let’s make bubbles.
R: Mommy, my shirt wet!

Dog: Woof (loosly translated: “Mommy, what are you doing?”)
Me: Now this is getting ridiculous.

R: Mommy, you naked.
Me: Yes honey, I usually am when I take a shower.
R: Oh.

I give up.