by Patti
S began replacing bath time with "grown-uppy" showers a few years ago, and as soon as those started, they became a sudden window of alone time for me. While she wailed out the latest Disney tunes through the spray of water, I would grab my laptop, or a book, or simply settle onto the couch to watch some uninterrupted TV. Every once in a while I would call out, "You okay?", and she would halt her shower falsetto to shout out "YES!" and then continue warbling into the shampoo bottle.
Lately, though, her shower time has really infringed on my alone time. It's as if the novelty has worn off for her, and now? She needs an audience to bathe. Just as I am sitting down to read, her echo-y voice comes barreling out of the bathroom. "MOM! COME HERE!" Since she is in the shower, and showers are full of slippery, drown-y danger, I go running. "WHAT? ARE YOU OKAY?" I shout breathlessly as I tear open the shower curtain. And there she is, shampoo lathered high onto her head, a brush in her hand. "Watch this!" And then she proceeds to jiggle frenetically while singing something like this into her brush:
After the obligatory clap, I shut the shower curtain and head back to the comfort of my "alone time", but before I can even reach the couch, it happens again. "MOM!" I head back to the bathroom, this time at a slower pace. I know she is fine, obviously, and I wonder what is in store for me now. I pull back the shower curtain and find her standing on one foot, the other pointed against her knee, her arms delicately fluttering at her sides. "I'm doing shower ballet!" she announces proudly.
"Wow, that's...cool. But be careful, you might slip!" and then I shut the curtain again.
But this time, I don't even make it out of the bathroom. "Wait! Mom! Look!" I turn to find her head already popped out from behind the curtain, her hair flinging buckets of water onto the floor.
"What is it, honey?"
"Ummm... LOOK!" And then she will start swaying her hips from side-to-side, her arms flailing wildly over her head, her eyes crossing for added effect.
"Did you just totally make that up to keep me here?"
She smiles, completely busted, water dripping into her eyes. "It's just that... I'm BORED."
Apparently, it's not enough to just get clean anymore. No, showers must now also be entertaining! I firmly tell her to hurry and finish soaping up her body, and to really use soap, not just pretend, and then leave the bathroom, telling her to not call me again unless she is out and dried.
A few minutes later. "MOM!" Are you serious?
"WHAT?"
"It's important this time; I swear!"
I head to the bathroom and her head is already poked out of the curtain, her hair once again bathing the bathroom floor. "Did you know that Sarah got those Converse that go up to your knee? Can I have some of those?"
"JUST FINISH TAKING A SHOWER AND WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT AFTER YOU GET OUT!" And I turn to leave, but not before almost killing myself in the process as I slip on the floor that is now completely soaked.
As I make my way to the living room, I hear her belting out another song, this time singing Adele's "Rolling in the Deep", S's version of the lyrics far more interesting. "There's a fire that's started in my heart, and it's making me feel that I'm not scared of the dark. I'm rolling in the dee-ee-eep! Why are making fun of mee-ee-ee? And you tell me, that you have to pee-ee!"
I turn back to the bathroom and stand by the door, smiling, reminding myself that these are the times I will one day miss.
