Trapped

Today I woke up and got my oldest son ready for school. He's in the first grade and is flexing his sass lately. The bus comes at 6:55am (FOR FIRST GRADERS!!!) so I have to get him up early plus allow an extra fifteen minutes to argue with him about eating his breakfast and whatnot. All this to say that with the seven-year-old and the baby, I rarely have a minute to myself.

This morning was going to be different.

Today I would lake time to take a shower AND shave my legs and I even entertained the thought of blow drying my hair. I waited until it was almost time for Stinks to take a nap and I started using my visualization skills just to make it through those last few minutes. I imagined the mirror getting all foggy...the hot water stinging my shoulders...the rich lather of my dandruff shampoo and that familiar scent that clears my sinuses. Romantic. Luxurious. Selsun Blue.

Just my luck that my angelic infant refused to go to sleep. He screamed and screamed and SCREAMED. I decided I would give in and pick him up from his crib but that I would not allow the little monster to ruin my shower and at this point I was not even willing to wait.

I took him in the bathroom with me and shut the door. I turned on the water and was comfortable with the fact that he had some toys to play with while I could see him through the foggy shower door. Determined to enjoy five minutes in semi-solitude, I turned on the shower and waited for the steam. It was better than I had even imagined it to be. I had about twenty minutes in the hot, hissing shower and I enjoyed every minute. Dandruff shampoo, Rainbath body wash, and even my fresh razor. In between wiping circles on the door so I could see where baby was, I was starting to feel refreshed! I was feeling like a new, softer, cleaner, smoother me.

But, like any good thing,  knew it must come to an end. The water was getting cold and, besides, Stinks was too quiet.

I reluctantly turned off the water and squeegeed the shower, looking through the fresh swipes to see if I could discern where exactly the baby was. I was about to push open the door when I saw a little hand right at the bottom of the glass.  And there he was, sitting on his knees right in front of the shower door. It was cute, at first, seeing his tiny baby hand through the foggy glass. I bent down and put my hand up to his hand. We babbled at each other through the door for a few minutes. Cute, right? I know, but I was starting to get cold and there's nothing more irritating than getting goosebumps after you shave. ALL that work for nothing. Baby needs to move.

It is only now that I realize I have no way out. If only I hadn't used all the hot water, I would have just turned it back on and waited for him to go play with the underwear I left on the floor. Instead, I am faced with a difficult decision. If I open the door, he will fall backwards and bonk his head on the floor, or worse, the toilet. If he falls over by himself, even landing on his tush, I will have to push him across the floor with the shower door so I can open the door wide enough to get out, effectively squishing him between the shower door and the wall. So there I was. Trapped in the shower.

You might wonder how I got out. I opted for the second choice and slowly pushed the door open and that worked out okay. But, just as I flipped my head over to wrap the towel around my hair, I see Stinks crawl away. I swear to God, I had no sooner flipped my head over again by the time I look around to find baby...standing by the toilet and splashing in the toilet water.

Note to self: Two things. Get those toilet lid lock things. Leave baby in crib while showering.