I Think I'll Just Stay Dirty

To ensure "peace" while showering I settled Jamie in front of the TV in my room featuring the Disney Channel. No backtalk from the Mom Police about rotting my children's brains. I'll take what I can get to get a few moments to get clean. Besides, it's not like I let him watch the Playboy Channel. He knows he's only allowed to watch that when his baby sister isn't around.

Meredith was popped in the Exersaucer.

Sabrina requested "rock 'n roll music" in her room so she can dance.

Jamie: Mama I don't liiiiiiiiiike Johnny and the Sprites!

Sabrina: This song was already on!

Meredith: Waaaaaaaaaaah!

Jamie: Sabrina's in my crib!

Sabrina: He's climbing up on the changing table!

Meredith: Waaaaaaaaaaah!

Sabrina: Can I wear a dress?

Jamie: Waaaaah! She hit my head with the closet door!

Meredith: Waaaaaaaaaaah!

Sabrina: He's on the changing table agaaaaaaaain!

Shower door flung open to admit icy cold air - Sabrina presents herself in full ballet regalia.

Sabrina: He pulled the baby tub out of the closet and he's sitting in it and I hit my arm on the doooooooooor.

Jamie: (flings shower door open again) Can I put underwear on?

Meredith: Waaaaaaaaaaaah!

All to the lilting combined strains of Johnny and the Sprites and the Dirty Dancing Soundtrack. Motherhood is bliss. That or a lifelong test of my sanity.