Ordinary Life

I was away for two nights. Hopping in the shower upon my return, I noticed the hand soap in our shower stall. I wrapped a towel around myself and poked my head into the bedroom where he was reclined. "Tell me you didn't resort to this." I held up the  pump of Pink Himalayan hand soap. "I did." he said. "I couldn't find the shampoo." I pulled the shampoo from hiding in clear sight. "Oh" his reply followed me back to the shower. I sloughed away the weary miles and considered the differences between us gals and guys that some deny exist.  I pondered marital roles. I felt slightly more valuable, for this moment at least, to this man  now reunited with his shampoo. I breathed a prayer of gratitude that I have  married a man who at least takes a shower when I am not around. Blessings abound... if you know where to look.

:: incomprehensible  screeching over the line:: "It's her." said my date's mom, as she handed him the phone. He walked into the other room, trailing his half of their conversation behind them like a cord. "It's none of your business who it is." he informed the receiver, before his voice faded into the other room. And then we went to dinner. ~~~ "I don't know. I'll ask. It's not that big a deal, okay?" He hung up and turned his attention my way. 'Did you take him to see Santa?' I had. And I hadn't known it was sacred ground. I just thought we were having fun. Kids like Santa and I was babysitting this kid. I didn't have any of my own. It turns out Santa is a special thing that parents do with their kids. I was dating his parent, not his actual parent - oopsie daisy.  

I'd been in the shower for three days, and still I wasn't clean. I looked through the fogged shower glass  to the alarm clock beside my bed. Okay, twenty-seven minutes to be exact. Still, twenty-seven minutes alone in my head can be an eternity... and I had yet to do anything but stand under the spray of hot water. I decided then to speed things up by taking a man's shower.  That is to say, I'd skip the loofah and hair conditioner and use the woodsy-smelling green bottle of 3-N-1, instead of the three lilac scented pastel bottles meant to be used successively.  The combination was meant to unlock a woman's secret beauty according to the happy spokeswoman on their paid advertising blocks during television's insomnia shift. Ha! (had that been aloud?) With no secrets and no beauty to unlock, I should be able to knock this shower out with a one-two punch: hair, body, out!  I had things to do, important, pressing things and I needed to finish them right a...