|dress: h&m; jean jacket coolness: dkny, circa 2001, watch: marc jacobs|
Mother's Day weekend is upon us. And fortunately for my mom, I'll be out of town. Don't fret folks, we spent last weekend together - all the weekend, truth be told. And I bought her a bomb-ass brunch party with family. After she had already bought me a spa day complete with mineral hot springs but I ask you, isn't that what moms love to do? They feel the need to give and nurture. And mom, I'd like to say thank you and you're welcome.
I love you. A lot. Like, big time. Huge time.
In other slightly related mom [to-be] news, I think I had my first noticeable (right, friends?) pregnant brain fart this morning! [pat. on. the. back.] I took a shower, something I don't do every day, let's face it, but because I'm off to Palm Springs this weekend and since pool lounging totally qualifies as some exotic version of a shower, I thought it best to have at least IRL showered within the last 3 days come Sunday. So I'm in there, washin' up, takin' my time, trying desperately to shave any nether-regions that I can still partially see, 1. because I'm going in a pool, duh and 2. I'm delaying the inevitable wax fest in my future - that woman will definitely have better sight and dexterity than I will in the coming months and the thought of my poor son being born through a forest is just, well, terrifying.
So I finish up my shower party and turn off the water but I still hear something. Quoi?, I think to myself. Maybe I say it to myself. Naturally, I should think to turn the bath faucet back on...wait....and then off again. But still, the sound persisted. I step out and dry myself off. I peer outside. Is there a busted pipe in my backyard? Are my neighbors washing their patio off with a steady hose? No, all clear out there. But I really should pick up the dog poop soon.
Turning around to face the sink, I see it. I've left the sink faucet on. Have I ever done that before? No. Why was it on before I stepped into the shower? Because silly, I had to wash the Nair off my hands. Why did I have Nair on my hands? I bought some Nair for the Shower stuff about a century ago and found it the other day when I was cleaning the bathroom cabinet out. I also found about 25 barely used shampoos and conditioners, though I didn't keep any, knowing that I hadn't enjoyed the way they approached my precious hair, but of course, I didn't throw that old ass Nair away. The instructions instructed that I apply it before getting into the shower, on dry skin. So I did, but the smell, oh the smell! I'll never know if it still works because I immediately wiped it off and yes, threw it in the trash.
So, yes, I had to wash my hands. Amazed, appalled, and relieved, I turn the water off and you'll never believe this but I STILL hear something. Ok, so now I know I'm crazy. Crazy Water Lady. I'm naked, hairless, and dry, walking out of the bathroom to the only other place I know I should go and there it fucking is. The kitchen sink water is running. It's running! The water is running.
Why is it running you might wonder. Well, I'll tell you. I had a bowl of cereal before I showered today. I had a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and thought, like a good roommate, I should wash my dish when I'm done. And I did, I washed my bowl and spoon AND the bowl and spoon from yesterday morning but did I think to turn off the water? No, no, I did not.
So, there you have it. The case of the running water and the crazy pregnant lady, solved.
I'm spent and ready to lounge by a pool.
Is it 2pm yet?
Happy weekend to you gorgeous people!