Hi Trent, you doing good? Yeah? Good to hear.
Listen, you are fully aware that Mommy adores you.
But know what else Mommy adores?
Her showers.
Scalding water, steam filled room, which-Bath-and-Body-Works-do-I-use-today, 15 minute I-don't-care-about-the-environment-at-this-moment, wonderful showers.
If the door is locked, you bang, kick, scream, and say my name a million times. Because of that, I no longer lock the door, and when your brother and sister are available, they can entertain you.
But lately Trent, things are not working out right.
I'm standing in the scalding water, relaxing my shoulders, and you open the door. Then you move the shower curtain to the side, and there you are, as naked as the moment you were born. You flash my favorite smile.
"Mama, bath please."
Before I can say no, you are climbing in the tub. I have to rush to turn the cold knob. Once you are in the shower, you seem shocked that you accomplished your goal. You look down, look back up, give me that smile again and theatrically raise your arms while shouting "Ta da!!"
Trent, I know how long it took you to learn how to undress yourself, and I'm so proud of you, but perhaps "Ta da!!" for a skill you have been doing for so long now is a bit dramatic.
Whatever floats your boat though, right?
Even though Mommy gives you a big laugh and tells you that you are so stinkin' cute (I'm trying to stop that), I am slightly annoyed that I'm losing the solitude of my shower, and the room to shampoo, condition, and shave without you playing with all your foam letters at my feet.
Here is the deal Trent. I bathe you at least once a day. Always have, always will. Let's see if you can wait until Mommy is done with her own shower, ok?
I promise, promise, promise that you will get your own, and when Mommy makes a promise, it is good as gold.
