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Good Morning Hot Stuff
School vacation. Kids home and screaming of boredom. Ugh! Get to sleep late though. Yeah! OK sleeping late wins. All is good.
So this morning hubby hits the shower early. Poor baby has to work and I get to entertain an 8 and 6 year old on a no-play-dates-planned day. Ugh. Sorry I forgot I was going to focus on the positive - sleeping late. OK here goes. As luck has it I can't get back to sleep after the big guy's waking and subsequent shower and dressing routine. No biggie. I exchange the sleeping late thing for a nice, long, hot shower and a chapter or two of my latest read before the kids wake starved for attention. This is even better than the sleeping late plan.
The house is freezing in the morning. So I quickly disrobe and hop on the scale as the water warms to near scalding before I jump in. Notice how I skipped over the scale reading. We are focusing on the positive today so I won't mention that I think the scale must be broken. The stupid piece of junk is obviously stuck. Except for a carton or twelve of Girl Scout cookies I have been a saint on the diet and, except for the days when I just don't feel like it, I am up and at 'em at 5:00am or noon sweating myself silly. So you see my point. Dedication like this means only one thing - a broken scale. That settled; back to my intoxicating shower.
As steam starts to waft through the air I slide into the open-front, glass brick shower stall. The frozen fingers of my left hand are the first to test the temperature. It's perfectly blistering as the pounding jets travel up my left arm and onto my shoulders. Absolute nirvana. I can feel the cold leave my body as the water pours over my shoulders and down toward the drain. My inner core is the last to give up the icy hands of overnight heat conservation. Time for a little aroma therapy. An exhilarating mixture of shampoos, soaps and gels are slathered, combed through and rinsed off.
THIS...................IS...................AWESOME.
A head full of aromatic lather, a blasting stream of scorching water and ever-elusive privacy. This must be what heaven is like. Ummm.... Ahhhhh!!!
My eyes open. My eyes close and my head shakes in disbelief. My eyes open again. Holy crap! He really is standing there and in his coat and tie with his briefcase in hand. A fleeting thought of some steamy office-executive-and-lonely-house-wife porn reenactment is shot dead in its tracks when he utters,"Hate to bother you but you need to drive me to the train. The car is in the garage, remember?"
Hell no I don't remember! Would I be wasting a perfectly perfect shower if I remembered I had to haul the kids out of bed and into this freezing cold house only to rush coats, hats and shoes jump into the even more freezing cold car and drive you to the train? That's my mind talking. However, trying to save face for my forty-year old memory, my mouth says, "Of course, I'll be down in 2 minutes." Unbelievably, I hit that time estimate. It is not pretty and the waking routine with the kids is anything but gentle. I have a towel on my soaking wet hair and the pj-clad kids are in the back with a blanket, but Mr. Missed-His-Shot-as-A-Porn-Star makes the train with minutes to spare. Yippee! Daddy gets to work on time and we get a nice relaxing start to our day.
Back home, now colder than ever with wet hair and clothes, I jump back in the shower. However, it's not the same. Most of the hot water is gone and now I have constant comings and goings with the kids. "What are we having for breakfast?" "What are we going to do today?" My long leisurely morning is reduced to a two minute luke warm shower and zero alone time. Maybe tomorrow. After all a girl can dream. Can't she?
So this morning hubby hits the shower early. Poor baby has to work and I get to entertain an 8 and 6 year old on a no-play-dates-planned day. Ugh. Sorry I forgot I was going to focus on the positive - sleeping late. OK here goes. As luck has it I can't get back to sleep after the big guy's waking and subsequent shower and dressing routine. No biggie. I exchange the sleeping late thing for a nice, long, hot shower and a chapter or two of my latest read before the kids wake starved for attention. This is even better than the sleeping late plan.
The house is freezing in the morning. So I quickly disrobe and hop on the scale as the water warms to near scalding before I jump in. Notice how I skipped over the scale reading. We are focusing on the positive today so I won't mention that I think the scale must be broken. The stupid piece of junk is obviously stuck. Except for a carton or twelve of Girl Scout cookies I have been a saint on the diet and, except for the days when I just don't feel like it, I am up and at 'em at 5:00am or noon sweating myself silly. So you see my point. Dedication like this means only one thing - a broken scale. That settled; back to my intoxicating shower.
As steam starts to waft through the air I slide into the open-front, glass brick shower stall. The frozen fingers of my left hand are the first to test the temperature. It's perfectly blistering as the pounding jets travel up my left arm and onto my shoulders. Absolute nirvana. I can feel the cold leave my body as the water pours over my shoulders and down toward the drain. My inner core is the last to give up the icy hands of overnight heat conservation. Time for a little aroma therapy. An exhilarating mixture of shampoos, soaps and gels are slathered, combed through and rinsed off.
THIS...................IS...................AWESOME.
A head full of aromatic lather, a blasting stream of scorching water and ever-elusive privacy. This must be what heaven is like. Ummm.... Ahhhhh!!!
My eyes open. My eyes close and my head shakes in disbelief. My eyes open again. Holy crap! He really is standing there and in his coat and tie with his briefcase in hand. A fleeting thought of some steamy office-executive-and-lonely-house-wife porn reenactment is shot dead in its tracks when he utters,"Hate to bother you but you need to drive me to the train. The car is in the garage, remember?"
Hell no I don't remember! Would I be wasting a perfectly perfect shower if I remembered I had to haul the kids out of bed and into this freezing cold house only to rush coats, hats and shoes jump into the even more freezing cold car and drive you to the train? That's my mind talking. However, trying to save face for my forty-year old memory, my mouth says, "Of course, I'll be down in 2 minutes." Unbelievably, I hit that time estimate. It is not pretty and the waking routine with the kids is anything but gentle. I have a towel on my soaking wet hair and the pj-clad kids are in the back with a blanket, but Mr. Missed-His-Shot-as-A-Porn-Star makes the train with minutes to spare. Yippee! Daddy gets to work on time and we get a nice relaxing start to our day.
Back home, now colder than ever with wet hair and clothes, I jump back in the shower. However, it's not the same. Most of the hot water is gone and now I have constant comings and goings with the kids. "What are we having for breakfast?" "What are we going to do today?" My long leisurely morning is reduced to a two minute luke warm shower and zero alone time. Maybe tomorrow. After all a girl can dream. Can't she?
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