Sometime Mom Likes To Be Alone
Evidently moms have to bathe at midnight to enjoy a peaceful moment. While soaking in this luscious tub of bubbles I wait for creative thoughts. Nothing comes to mind.
Maybe the water is too hot. All three mirrors are steamed over-two with water spots and one with an old message from a young heart, it says, "I love you."
It could be my mind is on my eye. The right eye, it caught a splash of bleach when I scrubbed this bathroom ceiling earlier. Who owns safety glasses anyway? Next time I'll squirt the rag instead of the ceiling. Live and learn.
Nope, still nor creative thoughts. I wonder if interruptions have anything to do with it? My four-year-old Misty is out of bed again to go potty. I amuse her with a tablet on my bubbles. She asked if I was doing homework. Don't remind me, Geometry isn't my favorite subject.
I thought I had a quiet moment, then another knock. This time my nine-year-old Brandy has her book report done. I'm all ears. She left but only to return with a chair. Would you believe she's writing in her diary? She said, "It's real cozy in her mom." Glad she already had her bath.
This is ridiculous. How can I write with these interruptions? My better half popped in to say hi and make faces. And Misty returned. Now it's getting too crowded.
Is this Grand Central Station? It sure is a busy room tonight. Guess I'm one popular gal. They don't know that sometime mom likes to be alone. They just know wherever she is they will find her.
It's my fault. I could have locked the door. But then they'd think I was mad and avoiding them, sick, or depressed.
Nope, a gal can't win. I suppose I'll be leaving this moment of almost escape. I'm water logged and those two ants that were walking on the tub must have fallen in.
Someday, if Calgon really takes me away, I'll write when I get there.
