I have lost my bathroom. No, it’s not that I have forgotten the way to my bathroom. I just don’t recognize it when I get there. This is clearly the result of having 3 house guests. Chelsea and Xavier are visiting from Georgia and Amara is hanging out also.
When I step in to take a shower, there are eerie shadows on the walls. There are towels draped from most every horizontal formation in the room. I can understand why there might be 4 towels. Sue’s, mine, Amara’s and Chelsea’s. Zay isn’t big enough to need much more than a hand towel. That is, if he ever wants out of the tub. If I sat that long in the water, my fingers would have a permanent shrivel and there would be an sediment ring around — which is exactly why I no longer languish in the tub.
Anyway, there are a lot more towels than we have guests. I’ve always thought that a shower was a cleansing event. Stepping out, the body should be clean. Wet, yes. But no dirt to soil the towel. Dry off and drape the damp towel over the towel bar…or shower door frame. By the time you need another shower, it will be dry. Oh, but, wait. The extra towels are for Chelsea who seems to consider towels as markers for how many showers she has taken this week.
Forget the towels dangling outside the shower. What’s the half dozen wash cloths doing inside. I haven’t used a wash cloth since I was 5 years old. Even then I didn’t wash with it. A 5 year old easily imagines a monster snake swimming about the tub mustering up the courage and speed to perform an amazing, tail flapping, Water World gyration. So, I’ll grant one cloth for Zay’s snake and one for Amara. That leaves 4 for his mom, who wants one-a-day to match her towels.
Also within the shower enclosure there is are 3 shampoos plus a pre-shampoo. Wait there are 2 conditioners competing for space on that short shelf. Are you kidding me? They condition their hair pre-shampooing and after?
The flat surfaces of the tub are also crowded. There resides no less than 5 cleaning agents. I’d say soap, but I’m the only one who would even consider soap. Sue opts for Shower Gel. Shea enriched, no less. Seriously? African tree sap oozing all over your body in the shower. What’s it do, stick to the dirt then drizzle down the drain?
Or maybe clog the drain by sticking to the shed hair swirling there. Typically, the drain has more hair than I can afford to lose. I’d bet I could salvage enough in a week to make a Barbie wig…one with varied highlights from the females in the house.
Oh, and the gel fragrance is Midnight Pomegranate. Who’s knows what that smells like? Sure there are sensitive noses that can differentiate the aroma of various fruits. But, does a pomegranate smell different during a midnight snack run?
Why isn’t there a Sunrise Prune shower gel? Lots of folks know what prune juice smells like in the morning. Okay, I can see how that would significantly reduce the demographic population interested in that scent.
Coming out of the shower, I noticed NUK on the vanity. Is that instruction to heat it before application? No! It’s toothpaste. I have never seen that toothpaste before. A closer look. It is Fluoride Free. Hold on a second. When I lived in the city, I paid taxes to put Fluoride in the water. It’s not Sue who spends a premium to keep fluoride off of the kids teeth.
Lastly there are two curling irons cooling in the sink. They are not mine. Even in my teens when I had a hair that could grow 5 inches without falling out, I sported a very nice “wave” atop my head, but did not use an iron to form it. Suave maybe, but not heat. And now? I don’t have enough hair to form a ripple. I’m sure it is one each for Chelsea and Amara. Zay’s curls don’t’ need an iron.
It certainly does seem that the bathroom has taken on a new persona this week. However, I am thrilled for the reason.
? of the day: If you swallow your pride, will your stomach roar?