My tween daughter has decided that her favorite place to get clean each evening is in my master bathroom shower. When we bought this house two and a half years ago, it was with the understanding that I would likely not tolerate the existing bathroom with its side by side claustrophobic showers, teal ceiling, and velvet leopard print drapes. A little over a year ago I got my way, had the beastly room gutted, and created an amazing expansive shower with clear glass that goes all the way to the floor and a rain showerhead that covers me in warm water to slowly wake up in the morning.
It is my refuge.
And it has been bogarted by my nine year old.
I can’t really blame the girl. It’s far away from where her seven year old brother is brushing his teeth, or worse, running around naked singing Harry Belafonte songs. This is, after all, his preferred way to dry after a bath, casting off his green towel like shackles that are keeping him from enjoying the world in all his glory.
Earlier this week she emerged from my bathroom, hair in a striped towel turban, rocking her fuzzy pink robe and said nonchalantly, “I created a book series while I was washing my hair. The main character’s name is Justice A. Bout, but people call her Just for short. You know….Just A Bout.”
This girl loves a nice long shower at the end of the day, quiet moments away from a naked dancing first grader, and sketching characters with punny names in her mind while she lathers, rinses and repeats. Yes, I do believe she’s mine.