The scene is set.
She is sleeping in her crib, and it appears that she is conked out enough that I just...might...have time for a shower.
This is excellent news.
However, despite my speediness, I'm only about half way through when I hear the scream coming through the monitor. Looks like I will have to forego shaving my legs....again. Disappointing, as they were pretty itchy under the sheets last night. By the time I have managed to rinse the conditioner out of my hair, somewhat dry off, throw on a robe and fling my sopping hair into a towel she is screaming like the apocalypse is here RIGHT NOW which makes me feel pretty crappy because what's a mom supposed to do besides make her daughter feel safe and snuggly from everything, ESPECIALLY when it comes to apocalypses? I sprint into her room and discover that she's spit up and it drained down her face and all into her freshly washed hair. No wonder she's upset. How disgusting. She is not immediately soothed as I snuggle and rock her while simultaneously wiping up her mess, probably because in my bright green robe and with my even brighter green towel on my head, I look like an alien. An extra terrestrial brought on by the apocalypse, no doubt.
It quickly becomes clear that the only way to remedy the situation is a mother-daughter dance party. I turn up some of our favorite tunes (girlfriend is a big fan of Band of Horses, just like her mommy) and then we sing and dance all over the living room. Works like a charm every time - soon she is happily looking around and then snuggling into my chest and off to sleep. My wrongs against her have been excused.
Do you think that when the teenage years roll around, and she's shouting at me like it's the apocalypse because I told her that the prom dress that she wants is way too ridiculously expensive, (sound familiar Mom? By the way...my apologies for that.) do you think that when I suggest a mother-daughter dance party all will be immediately forgotten and forgiven? Will we sing and dance to our mutually shared favorite band and then have a happy snuggle afterwards?
Or, when I make such a suggestion, will she stare and blink in silence as if looking into the face of a green alien?
Or maybe there will be an eye roll?
Well. Whatever the case may end up being someday, I will enjoy these snuggly dance parties while I can, as they usually end up being my favorite part of the day.
Legs shaved or not.
Turn it up!
