A Little Fur

howering used to be synonymous with relaxing, rejuvenating, and renewing. That was before I had two babies in 18 months.

Now, on the mornings I can drag my lifeless body into a trickle of water before my husband leaves for work, it's fast, cold, and I usually miss something. And I always wash at least one thing twice - you know, "Shit. Did I already to my hair?" as I am rewashing my hair for the third time but totally forgot my pits. It's inevitable and happens. Those are the days I actually do shower without an audience.

I used to have a cute figure. Ok, a knock out one. Every once in awhile I would have a few too many cocktails and imagine what it would be like to entertain in the nude... never did I imagine it would be to a crowd of little people I gave life to...

Now that cute figure is further from my life than a reliable babysitter and I'm not as comfortable with the "more to love" version of myself, but a crowded bathroom happens daily. So, my husband hopped out of the stall, stubbing his toe on the dusty, rusty, and seldom used Weight Watchers scale and tripped over a few dozen (new) tampons from the industrial-sized box Zoe was using as logs for a staggeringly large tampon cabin she'd erected. Ty's towel dropped and Zoe's eyes zeroed in with interest. She stood up, eye level, and zoomed in as Ty quickly scooped up the towel and scurried into a more private place for his privates to hang loose.

Zoe didn't say a word, Ty lifted his eyebrow's with a "dodged a bullet there" look over her, and I winked and hopped into the now-icy water. Why do we always let it run between showers? It never actually works out that I hop right in as he hops on out.

Of course my towel was missing when I was getting out of the shower, as it was used to mop up the moat of water Zoe somehow got from the sink to the tampon cabin, so Birthday Suit Momma got to do the strut of shame to the linen closet.

Just as I was pulling on some clean undies - which, in our house takes a few minutes to find, as you never know if they'll be all over the master bedroom in clean laundry piles, in the appropriate drawer, or on Zoe's head as a "Diving Mask" when she plays "Scuba School" in the dry jacuzzi tub. Zo peaks her head from the bathroom and says, "Mom! You and Daddy are the same but different!"

"That's right, baby." I mumbled hunting for an actual pair of my own socks.

"Yep. You both have fur!" She stated, very proud of herself.

"Fur? Like a teddy bear?" I asked as I settled for a pair of my husband's trouser socks he refuses to wear unless it's a job interview or funeral.

Gleefully she responded, "Yep! Fur. To keep your peanuts and vagina all warm!"

Yep.