Epic Shower Fail

Did you ever have an idea that sounded like a good idea at the time, but turned out to be an absolutely horrific idea?  One of those that, when you thought about it later, made you question your sanity for even considering it in the first place?

Yeah, I had one of those moments on Thursday.

Up until recently, I have always showered during Miles' first nap of the day - somewhere between 10:00 and 11:00 in the morning.*  It worked out nicely, because I was usually able to shower, and then prep lunch before Miles woke up.  Then, Miles became a one-nap-a-day kid.  If I wait until his nap?  It will be 12:30 in the afternoon before I shower.  And that's a little too sluggish, even for me.  I cannot shower first thing in the morning, because that's when Stacey showers.  And showering at night means I have this massively ugly afro in the morning.

So, in a moment of insanity brought on by 'my hair feels icky', I had a brilliant thought.  I am forever hearing stories from other moms about how their kids play quietly in the bathroom while they shower.  Now, this is where I should have scoffed at the idea.  Because Miles?  Has never 'played quietly' while I'm doing anything short of watching his every move.**  Still in my ick-induced delirium, I set Miles up with a box of Duplos on the bathroom floor, and rushed to jump in the shower.

I began to see the flaw in my plan the minute the water was turned on.  Miles appeared at the side of the tub, peeking around the shower curtain, begging to be allowed in.  I quickly soaped my hair, while he hung from the side of the tub, and said, "Just a minute, Sweetie, Mommy will be right out."  Miles took that as permission to try crawling into the tub fully clothed.

Seeing wet, slobbering concussions in my near future, I quickly stripped him out of his clothes, and put him on the far end of the tub, with his bath toys.  Meanwhile, I went back to the warm confines of the shower stream to rinse my hair.

And realized that it was far too hot for Miles.  See, my approach to cleaning is that if the water is hot enough, it will strip the dirt right off of anything.  This includes me.  Plus, I am completely incapable of retaining even the least little bit of body heat, so the heat helps keep me from developing hypothermia in my own house.^  So, the water in the shower was somewhere just short of boiling as it came from the shower head.  I quickly adjusted it down to a level that was cool enough for Miles.  Which meant that I was instantly freezing.

Meanwhile, Miles had realized that the tub was not filling up with water, and that instead, water was spraying down from somewhere up high.  He was displeased with this arrangement, and decided to let it be known.  By sitting between my feet and screaming for all he was worth.  His screams seemed to echo, "Mommy, why is there water coming from the sky?"

To which I replied, "Okay, Sweetie, scoot back here, Mommy will rinse her hair, and then we'll turn off the evil water."

Screaming, obviously translating to, "But, Mommy!  There's water!  Coming from the sky!  I need to be between your feet for safety!"

"Move back here, please!"

"I can't!  There's water!  Coming from the sky!!!  It's so awful I'm going to look up at you while I scream!" <Miles gets a face-full of water> "Water!!! Coming from the sky!!!"

"Move back!  Mommy will fix it!  But I have to rinse the soap from my hair!"  After all, it's only been there for ten minutes, now!

". . . But there's water coming from the sky!!!  It's dreadful!  Save me."

"Fine."

I picked him up, wrapped him in a towel and deposited him on the outside of the tub, so I could make the desperate attempt to rinse my damned hair.  Apparently, being outside the tub made Miles forget everything that had happened in the last ten minutes, because two seconds later, he was trying to climb back into the tub.

And that's how I ended up standing naked outside the shower, bent over backward, rinsing my hair with one hand in the freezing cold water, while trying to keep my naked toddler from crawling into the tub with my opposite leg.

*Yes, that means I sit around in my pajamas until then.  I am a lazy slug.  But I like it, so :p

**Seriously, the kid seems to think he is incapable of play unless someone is watching.

^I should note that we keep the temperature in our home between 68 and 70 degrees Fahrenheit, which would be plenty warm enough for anyone whose body can retain any heat at all.  My body has apparently decided that standing upright is enough of an accomplishment for it.  Retaining heat would just be overkill.