The Shower

It is something I dream about. I envision how the hot water would feel on my shoulders, How clean I would feel. I think about it all day long on the days David is gone at work. Some days I just don't get to shower in the morning. I know, gross, right? Well, I have never been a demanding person. I don't need much to keep me happy. Just a shower. And on those days that I don't get one until David is home, it is all I can think about. So tonight I was all set to take my shower, complete with hot water on the shoulders and soap and all. I mean, my fantasies don't even include shaving above the knee, just to give you an idea of how simple I am to please. But invariably, someone in my home runs the water on me. A 10 year old who forgets not to flush, a husband who is washing his poopy-diaper hands. It's all about the kids now, is what I am saying. Not even the shower is sacred anymore. I gave up going to the bathroom a long time ago, I am never alone, or without Jack pounding on the door for me. But the shower, it was my safe zone. I am kind of mourning it. One day I will be taking a shower or going to the bathroom and it will be quiet. Then I will probably cry my eyes out.