Locked Door
Warning, my little chickens. This content might not be suitable for your virgin eyes.
As a mom of 4, alone time is hard to come by. Not so much with the oldest two. Hell, Gianna and Scarlett spend their entire lives in their rooms so even when they are home, it’s hard to tell. They very rarely hover around me anymore. But the “second half kids” as I like to call them, are always up my butt.
This lack of alone time includes any sort of privacy when taking a shower as well. Since Evie has claimed ownership of mine and Vince‘s bedroom and closet, this also includes our bathroom as well. It’s very rare that I will get a shower at night without her in tow, asking to play Paw Patrol as I wipe the grime of motherhood of my body each day. Marina will often be perched in her bouncer, a spectator to our nightly routine.
Showers in solitude are not something I get very often.
If you are a woman that has been through puberty, you might see where this lack of privacy would present a bit of an issue in the hygiene department. Maybe it’s just a me thing, but I don’t feel comfortable landscaping the lady bits with an audience of children. It’s a private thing. Plus, I don’t think it’s fair to tackle the beast in the shower with Evie; the shower spray blasting my shavings onto her body. That’s kind of gross.
Sooooo, that means it’s been quite some time since I’ve addressed “the area”. It was looking worse than my neighbor’s front lawn who has apparently made it their New Year’s Resolution to never mow their grass or treat it for weeds in 2024. Good for them for sticking to it. It looks atrocious…. just like my baby making machine did. Until last night.
I decided it was time.
Evie was watching her tablet. Marina was hanging with Vince, and I announced, “I’m going to take a quick shower.” And I entered the bathroom, ALONE! Midway through the exercise of shaving my undercarriage, Vince enters the bathroom.
“Holy shit, you’re going to be there for a while. Want me to go get the weed wacker?”
He was right. It took some time. Blame it on the months of neglect. Blame it on a dull blade. But after what seemed like hours, I was done. I rinsed off, sprayed the shower to all hairs found their way down the drain, dried myself, and slapped on some pj’s. Walking back into the living room, I felt like a changed woman.
“I think I just lost 5 lbs.”
Vince looked over and nodded. “I bet.”