Who is calling me?
I am working on a brilliant blog post. Really. I swear. However, I just finished exercising and need to take a shower. You like C-section scars frat boys? Oh yeah, let that image sink in for a bit. My husband told me that I don’t need to exercise, “I think you’re perfect as is.” Um, I’m not running for you. I have to look good in case I meet Ryan Gosling someday.
I am one of those mothers who randomly screams, “What? What happened?” in the shower. I swear the moment I run water over my head, I hear my children calling my name or crying. Do you think God is just messing with our heads? “Watch this one. She falls for it every time.” I have even jumped out of the shower, slipped on the ground and ran into the hallway naked because I thought I heard someone scream in pain. My son will be telling a therapist about that image one day.
I wish I could tell you it will change, but it doesn’t. My two are 17 and 21, yet even now if I try to shower while they are home they will either start fighting, rough housing (which leads to fighting) or try to blow up the house.