Sunday, June 29, 2008

Shower Time.

This time we were in the shower. I'm late, as usual, for church, stressed, and on the brink of becoming totally insane. Ethan keeps telling me the water is in his eyes, and that he needs a towel. I'm sympathetic for the most part, but he keeps turning and looking right into the water so I'm not entirely sympathetic with him. In fact, the more he keeps telling me the water is in his eyes, the more impatient I become. Get out from under the water, ding dong! When he's not telling me he wants out of the shower, he's taking the cover off the razor, or opening the conditioner and dumping it all over the sides of the tub.
I am scrubbing and shaving as fast as I can, being careful not to let the soap drip off my legs into his eyes, even though he insists on standing directly under my leg that I am shaving. I tell him to move, just a little, so he will be in the soap-and -water-free-zone and he gives me a very defiant, "I CAN'T MOVE." Of course he could, but he won't. (side note: I have countered Ethan's new favorite saying (I CAN'T) by telling him he can say, "I'd rather not". It's kinda cute when he says it--for now anyway).
He keeps telling me to pick him up and that he needs a towel. I am about ready to tackle leg number two when I can't stand it anymore. I sweep his slippery body up and he blinks at me. There are water drops on his darkened eyelashes. I brush my thumb over his eyes to wipe them off.
"All better?"
"Yeah." He's still looking at me, almost curiously. I give him a "What?" look and he says, "You have nice hair," as he moves his fat little fingers through my wet hair which looks like a punk rocker's hair out of the 80's, full of gel and aqua net and sticking out every which way. Seriously, that's what I look like in the shower.
"Thank you," I tell him, overwhelmed by his presence in my life, and that he would tell me in the most sincere and random way that I have nice hair, even with raccoon eyes from my mascara dripping all down my face.
I'm still kinda overwhelmed by his compliment when I put him back down, until he starts opening the curtain so that he can use the tub side rail as a highway for his truck. I ask God to PLEASE give me patience, so I don't throw him out of the tub. But then I remember his little voice, You have nice hair, and I like him a little bit, enough at least to finish the shower without exploding.
I tell you, this toddler thing is a ride.

2 comments:

Jooste Roost said...

So Sweet! Simon and I were just commenting on how nice it is that they are so cute during this toddler stage because otherwise it would be so difficult to love them. What if they went through puberty and toddler-hood at the same time?!?

A Better No Tomorrow said...

I was just randomly reading through blogs and came across yours. Just want to let you know that your stories are great and you are very good at writing them :)