Shower Time??

In remembering our fabulous vacation, I tend to block out some of the "not-so-fun" moments... but there are those memories that seem so hilarious after the fact, that you can't seem to forget them and upon blogging about Savannah this one came to me...

The hotel was not easy to find... especially in the dark... and with a GPS that only lasted 2 hours (when you're packing for 4 people for 10 days you tend to forget a few things and the "car charger" for the GPS was not at the top of my list.) So with the help of Joe's Blackberry we were on a late night search for our destination. Should it come as a surprise that after a few wrong turns and an "I think you've gone too far..." we were stressed and exhausted beyond belief when we finally arrived. The doorman wheeled our belongings to our room as the valet parked the car and I checked us in. In 10 minutes flat we were unpacking and relaxing. Joe retreated to his laptop to check in at work as I scouted out the room amenities. Kids needed baths and jammies... mommy needed a stiff drink. Turns out none of us were in luck.

I peeked into the bathroom which consisted of tile. Floor, all four walls and ceiling. And for good measure. Because one one side sat the toilet. On the other side was a shower with nothing more than a flimsy curtain to shield the water from the rest of the room. No... bath... tub...

I eyed the hand-held showering device and decided it would have to do the trick. Stinky, sticky, tired kids do NOT make for a good bedtime routine.

I stripped Brendan and ran the water. I laid down a towel to kneel on and silently cursed the hotel staff for such unsafe conditions (not even a skid-free mat??) as I checked the water temperature. Good to go. Stood Brendan in the stall and sprayed him off. As thrilled as he was to be "tickled" by the water, this was less than appealing as a means to wash my child. Within seconds he was screaming "TOO HOT!!"

Sure enough the temp had risen and it took another minute (while Brendan now shivered) to get it back. I reached for the soap and paused mid-reach. How would I wash this wet, writhing boy with one hand while still holding the shower head? I contemplated only for a second and then slowly let the shower head fall. HUGE mistake. You know that picture of a garden hose full blast, slithering like a snake and spraying full force? Yup, that was the shower head. As Brendan squealed with delight at my unfortunate mistake, I screamed and grabbed for the head. Now, not only were we both soaked (me in my clothes, socks and shoes) but so were the toilet, the walls and the ceiling. So one-handed it was. I soaped him up and rinsed him off then attempted to dry us both.

Joe was oblivious to the commotion and still working, seemingly uninterrupted, at his laptop. I left Brendan to dress himself and grabbed the girl for a second round of shower time. Having already experienced what I thought was the worst, I figured I was prepared to tackle a second round. But my miscalculation of the fact that the shower (and entire bathroom) was now WET from our previous endeavor resulted in chaos. It is apparently (and all too obviously) the sound of his daughter's cries that will make my husband come running. How could I have believed that telling a two-year-old to "stay" standing on a tiny bath towel would result in her listening?? One foot off the towel onto the wet slippery floor and she went flying face first into the slimy tile. After assessing any apparent damage (and kisses from her daddy) I concluded that this child would need 4 hands to bathe her. Two to hold her upright (her daddy's) and two to spray and wash.

Jammies, clean teeth, story time, eyes closed... kids were out. I let out a huge sigh of relief as my head hit the pillow... we would survive to laugh about it later...