Flashback Friday: Once Upon A Mid-Morning Shower

My friend, Ginger, reminded me of this moment in my life yesterday.

My friend, Ginger, loves to remind me of this moment in my life at every opportunity.

That's what good friends are for, right? Reminding us of those moments that were so humiliating, it's like reliving them all over again at their mere mention.

I wasn't sure I'd ever recover from this one.

But, alas, we packed up and moved across the country and I will never have to face our old neighborhood man in brown, again.

And, well, I've stopped streaking.

Oh, motherhood. I've come a long way, baby.

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One day last week, I took a mid-morning shower.

You think that's not newsworthy? Well, a mid-morning shower ONLY happens to this Momma after very careful weighing of two scenarios:

Cleanliness. Or possible arson.

I love my little boys, but announcing to them that Momma is going into the land of "she can't see or hear a doggone thing you're doing" makes their little eyes light up like nothin' else. They're just - adventurous. And, I am often a major obstacle to their most creative of adventure planning.

But, in a moment of sheer bravery coupled with a desperate desire to change out of three day-old pajamas, I hopped in the shower after elevenses. Of course, I threatened them within an inch of their sticky little lives that if they even so much as moved off of the bed, that I'd...

Well, you get the point.

And amazingly, I walked out of the bathroom with both of the boys sitting on my bed still engrossed in the likes of the Imagination Movers.

"Momma, you're a a beetiful pwincess", exclaimed Max as I walked into the room. I think his declaration had something to do with the towel turban on my head and the bra "Ariel shirt" I was wearing.

*Side note: To appease my husband who is now having a heart attack that I just proclaimed to the world that our boys have seen The Little Mermaid, we only watch for Sebastian and the pirates, ok?

Let's move on.

I realize that my clothes are in the laundry room, where my clean clothes have set up house and home.

And, living on a couple of acres with virtually no neighbors, I decide to streak across the house in nothing but my pwincess headwear, "Ariel" top, and underoos to retrieve the rest of my morning attire from the laundry room.

Let's just say that our package-toting, doorbell-ringing, window-peering UPS man had never seen a princess like that before.

Hey, at least I wasn't wearing my little silver number.

Little graces.

Originally published March 4, 2009.