Calgon, Take Him Away...Please

Someone help me out here. Why does my 10 year old son avoid showering like his life depended upon it? Does he think that his burgeoning masculinity will wash off with the soap and be forever lost down the drain? Is he afraid that smelling clean will lessen his chances in the major leagues - a destiny that he is so sure of that he can't really decide if he wants to play pro baseball, basketball, or football?

I really don't get it. What is not to like about showers? Ok, I am probably not the right person to ask that question. I am admittedly a fan. A huge fan. First, there is the hot water. The hotter the better. Then you add good smelling bubbly soap, a wonderfully exfoliating scrubbie, and at least 8 minutes all to yourself. What could be better?

A hot shower washes away all the crud that life throws your way. It is a literal fresh start and a way to let go of life - even for just 8 minutes.

But try telling all of that to my son and you'll get this reply..."Um....yeah. Can I take one tomorrow?" Translation: You are a crazy person who doesn't understand how good it feels to be so dirty that your hair crunches and your belly button sprouts a colony of boll weevils.

Oh well. Maybe he'll grow out of it. At least for now I can take solace in the fact that it is summer and that chlorine kills at least some of the things growing on him that I'd rather not face.

So....Come Here Often?

Yep. That's right. I last posted here in August. Since then, I've been "wookin pa nub" in all the wrong places. Things have been more than a little crazy as I have taken a second job at the kids' school and taken over the position of Hal's assistant at ScreamFree.

Let's just say that I'll be glad when we can find someone else to do that dirty job. Mmmmm....Dirty Jobs......Have you ever seen that show? If you haven't, you must and if you have, you know what I'm saying when I tell you that Mike Rowe can come over and clean my pipes any time. Sewage pipes, people! Come on... Get your minds out of the gutter.

Don't get me wrong. I love my husband. I even love working with him - most of the time. He's witty, charming, engaging, and one hell of a snappy dresser. But there's just something utterly unsexy about having to preside over his schedule. It kind of takes the mystery away from the relationship - like the first time you see each other poop. So, I decided to take back the helm of this modest blog - if, for no other reason, to do something totally not related to him.

A girl needs her own life, you know. So, here I am, ready to entertain, ignite, console, and cajole all of you out there. I am searching for a new blog name because frankly, this one sucks. So, if anyone out there somehow accidentally stumbles on this because you were looking up sewage pipes on Google, send me an idea or two. I'm listening.