So I'm pregnant, right? But, then, you maybe already knew that, what with the recent photo display and all.
And I'm at that stage of hugely pregnant where your mobility slows, your feet want to swell, and your body just wants to sleep 90% of the time.
I believe the technical term for this is "third trimester."
I'm not complaining. Just stating the obvious.
In any case, yesterday was an especially low point.
I hate to admit this, but in my tired and exhausted state, I wasn't quite sure when I had last taken a shower.
However, Priss had her playgroup first thing in the morning, so I attempted to make myself look halfway presentable. I failed miserably (let's just say the old XL t-shirt and gray sweat shorts don't go far in disguising disgustingness), but, thankfully, the other moms were kind enough not to mention it.
They just, you know, took a couple steps back every time I got close.
But on the short walk to playgroup, just before we got to the door, we had to dodge the sprinklers that were going full blast in the lawn outside the Youth Center.
And the very first thought that popped into my head - that I very seriously pondered for about fifteen seconds - "If I run THROUGH the sprinklers, would THAT count as a shower for today?"
It was not one of my finer moments.
Thankfully, one the voices in my head very plainly stated, "Girrrrl! When your hair is greeezy with a 'z' you have got to have water AND a bar of soap!"
You'll be happy to know I am properly scrubbed and clean now. Even shaved the ol' pitters.
And I make this promise to you, The People, I will NOT attempt to use a sprinkler in lieu of a real shower.
At least not until after the baby is born.
