Of Hot Showers and Cat Poop

Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim

Salaam Alaikum wa Rahmatullah

This morning, I decided to do something that single people do.  I decided to take a shower.  You know, a shower.  Oh, I take showers all the time, but usually about a day later than I wanted to because of the constant demands of the house and children,  This morning, everyone was up, so I deposited the baby in his brother’s room, put on cartoons, grabbed my towel, and headed for the bathroom.  I was so silly, so naive….

I had only been in the bathroom a few minutes and had not even started the water (women have a pre-shower preparation ritual that takes some time), when I heard the shuffling of tiny feet outside the bathroom door, followed by a chorus of “ewwwws”.  There was some high-pitched shrieking and I could only make out the words “Zaid” and “cat poop”.  Sighing, I put on a robe and opened the door.  My brood was standing there, just standing, commenting like bystanders at a crime scene as they gawked at their baby brother, who was sitting next to the cats’ litter box with a sliver of poop held firmly in his grasp.

Taking in this scene, I went into Efficient Mommy Mode, all thoughts of a nice hot shower abandoned.  I scooped up the baby and and took him into the bathroom thankful that the offering in his hand was at least dry and not fresh.  Yeah, too much information, I know.  I pried his little hand open – babies have a really strong grasping reflex, don’t they? – and tossed the offending poopage into the trash.  Then I did a very thorough hand-cleaning, and did the old finger-scooping-out-the-mouth just to ensure that he hadn’t – ugh – consumed any of the aforementioned poopage.  All clear there, alhamdulillah.

I intended to just redeposit him in his brother’s room but I realized cat poop wasn’t the only poop I had to deal with.  Sighing even more now, I took him to the changing table and dealt with what I found there.  Finally, freshly cleaned, powdered, and diapered, I was able to give him to his brother and escape to the bathroom.  The thrill was gone, though.  The happy anticipation had faded and now I just hopped in, did my business, and hopped out.  I had lost my shower mojo.

It is now only 9:35 am and I have made coffee, fed hubby, fed the rest of the family, and now I’m about to jump into a mound of neglected paperwork so the tax man doesn’t come and haul me off.  Come to think of it, cat poop seems pretty okay by comparison.