It’s a Friday night, and I have a good reason for writing. This evening’s events surpassed the usual Facebook status update and merited a story in their own right.
So I guess I should start at the beginning.
The day began much like any other. It was a morning for getting clean. The boys had already been in and out of the shower, and now it was time for the girls to have a go. I had decreed showers as opposed to baths today, and this did not sit well with my strong-willed, six-year-old daughter.
Why this was a decree and not simply a suggestion is a subject of some debate. But let’s just say that this was my hill, and I chose to stand on it today amid tears and drama, drama, drama!
Since I am used to dealing with all kinds of antics I was not moved by my daughter's pleas for a bath, though she pronounced with great passion that she did not like showers. Was it only a week ago that this same child asked if she could take a piece of bread into the shower, just in case she got hungry?
Clearly, I did not grant this request.
I’m a terrible tyrant. I know.
After maybe ten minutes of wailing, gnashing of teeth, and losing a little of my own hair I noticed that the water was running, the crying had stopped, and laughter had taken its place. This should be a good sign – right?
Hmm. Never mind – peace was what I wanted and laughter meant peace!
My little ladybug bounded down the stairs not fifteen minutes later wrapped in a towel wearing a mischievous smile that I supposed was attached to the satisfaction of being clean.
The episode forgotten, we went on to spend a wonderful family day driving all over town and back home again for a fabulous Taco dinner. Following dinner we enjoyed ice cream sandwiches, a chapter from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and the gentle removal of narwhal’s from little teeth (i.e. toothbrushing).
Upon our ascent up the stairs to tuck our submariners into bed my eyes took in all the clothes and toys that were strewn across the loft area and the floors of the kids’ bedrooms. Without fail this always causes my blood pressure to rise. Still I held my tongue as I walked from room to room until I picked up a wet raincoat that was lying on the bathroom floor. Curiously we had not been caught in the rain on this particular day.
“What is this doing in here on the floor?” I posed waving a green and white polka-dotted raincoat in the air.
“Oh! I wore that in the shower today because, remember Mommy, I don’t like showers,” quipped my six-year-old matter-of-factly as if this were a perfectly reasonable explanation.
“I don’t like to get my body wet because it’s too hot, but I didn’t wear the hood so I could wash my hair!” she beamed.
I stood there stunned and quickly shoved my head behind the bathroom door before my little problem-solver could see me explode into laughter. "What's wrong with Mommy?" the kids wondered aloud.
"I think she's upset," my husband assured them.
What is the proper response to your child wearing raingear in the shower? Whatever it is, clearly I had been outdone, and the hill I thought I had successfully defended earlier in the day had actually been overtaken by an ingenius six-year-old using the latest in water resistant technology.
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