A Meteor Spot

We were on a mission.  We needed to get out the door to the grocery store before Baby fell asleep for his morning nap.  He was playing on his play mat. Daughter had been instructed to use the bathroom, brush her teeth, and find some shoes.  I stepped into the shower for my two-minute shower and dress routine, secretly hoping to stretch it to five.

One minute into the shower, little pink legs appear at the bottom of the glass shower door where I have a towel draped.

Daughter: I went potty!

Me: Good job!  (I know she didn’t flush but decide to remind her later and avoid the shocking drop in water pressure.) Now brush your teeth please.

Daughter: I am.  (I see a toothbrush and toothpaste flutter past the door as evidence.  A little face pushes up to the glass.) A meteor spot can be a fence.

Me: A what can be a what?

Daughter: A meteor spot can be a fenthhhh! (She now has a mouth full of toothpaste.)

Me: Finish your teeth and then tell me, okay?

The shower door pops open.  A curly head appears.  Daughter is dressed in a ballet leotard, tights, and green light-up sandals. She is not enrolled in a dance class; this is what she has chosen to wear to the store.

Daughter: I said a meteor spot can BE…A…FENCE.

I remember we had talked about meteor showers and shooting stars two days before.  She had asked if we could stay up late one night to watch a meteor shower.

Me: I guess you could watch a meteor shower from a fence. (I watch as the last of my steam escapes out the open shower door.)

Daughter: Noo, a meeeeteor spot can be a fence.

Me: Can you say more words?

Daughter: A meteor spot can be a fence…or a neighbor’s house…or a tree.

It finally clicks.

Me: OOOOhhh, a meeting spot!!

Daughter: Yes, the firefighters said a meteor spot can be a fence, house, or tree…or a mailbox.

Me: You’re right.  Our meeting spot is the neighbor’s driveway like we talked about.

The door starts to close, then opens again.

Daughter: We should have a fire drill.

Me: Okay, we will tonight when Hero comes home. Now please close the door and finish your teeth.

Daughter: Okay.

The shower door slams shut.

Me: How is Baby??

Daughter (skipping out of the bathroom): He’s good!  He fell asleep!


Showers optional

It doesn’t matter how the toothpaste got in my hair. This story is about how it stayed there three days.

I was late for a Baby Shower.  Daughter was “helping.” Baby was with Husband (hereafter known as Hero). Just as I was finishing my two-minute shower and dress routine, I got toothpaste in my hair.  I tried to wash it out over the sink.  It did not come out fully.  I blew it dry and did my best to flat iron it back into place.  I left the house with Baby and raced to the Shower.  That was Saturday.

Next day, I was up in the night with Baby and woke up late.  We all did.  We raced to get ready for church in 30 minutes flat.  I did my two-minute shower and dress routine, made breakfast, fed Baby, dressed everyone and ran out the door.  No time to wash hair.  That was Sunday.

Day after that, I was up early to make orange “play dough” for school.  I am one of four “play dough” moms.  It seemed like the easiest task to sign up for at preschool.  (Guilty secret: I would rather not have to sign up for anything; I would rather pay tuition and be done.)  I dumped all the ingredients into a pot only to realize I did not have enough salt for a double batch of dough.  Ran to the neighbor’s for more.  Finished orange dough only to realize the oil I had used was processed in a plant with peanuts and tree nuts.  As every mommy knows, no nut is allowed within 100 yards of a school.  Hero ran to the store for new supplies. I made breakfast, dressed everyone, fed Baby, and then made second batch of dough.  I did not have time for my two-minute shower and dress routine.  Put on hat and tennis shoes and ran out the door. (This makes people think I have been working out, not skipping my showers.)  We were miraculously only 5 minutes late and the teachers were ecstatic about the still-warm, orange dough.  I spent the rest of the day cleaning house/caring for kids/running errands and forgot that I never took a shower. That was Monday.

Today I had time for my two-minute shower and dress routine, and I washed my hair.  Twice.