There is something about a shower, a hot, steaming, shower, as the steamy water hits your hair and lets gravity roll it down your body that is healing for the soul. It wasn't until the surgery that I realized I had taken these mini-therapeutic sessions for granted! And for that dear shower God, I am sorry! Never. Again. Will. I. take. You. For. Granted. Never! The first shower out of the hospital was given to me by Chad, for him, it was more about cleaning wounds than luxury. But, as it would turn out, I had a completely different idea of what this shower would entail.
Thinking dirty yet? Don't. This shower experience was is a mere observation from a woman of science, for as long as I can remember I have always "analyzed" problems or people. It wasn't until college that I was trained to put it in a template. Yes, folks you can describe basic behaviors in an A + B = C template. Anyways, being a trained behaviorist comes in handy for my marriage, and in the case of the "Man Shower" it kept me from tearing my sweet husbands face off!
While in the surgical intensive care, I enjoyed a couple of sponge baths and 1 shower where I was taped down with plastic wraps, not exactly a peaceful steamy session, but I was able to wash my hair and brush my teeth-pseudo-peace! So when I finally got out of the hospital I was looking forward to an extra long therapy session of my own, no plastic wraps, and NO sponges.
Well Chad insisted on helping me, and having only been off morphine 24hours, I really didn't have a leg to stand on….no really, no legs; I was a bit too wobbly. I can't even begin to explain how excited I was about taking my first shower out of the hospital. But before I could even open the shower door, Chad pulled out those damn plastic wraps, and a shower chair.
Me: "What" (breath) "is" breath) "all" (breath) "that?" (breath.) I asked him frustrated.
Captain bubble buster: "Well babe, the doctor said….blah…blah…blah"
Still hopeful, I get in the bathtub expecting bliss and Captain bubble buster rips the shower head out of my hands.
CBB: "No babe, we have to get the water in exact areas"
Me: "OMG-just give me the shower head."
CBB: "calm down babe-I will get to it"
He would wash my leg and rinse it. Set the shower head down out of my reach, and clean the other leg. Then he would wash one arm, and rinse it.
Me: "Chad stop giving me a man shower!!…I want to sit and savor this moment…..(there was more to my speech, but it didn't work-I never got the shower head!}
CBB: after rinsing shampoo out of my hair, "Okay babe, we are……."
Me: "don't you dare say we are finished, I need conditioner"
CBB: "really? I don't want to risk exposing your wounds to more water"
Me: "Chad (enter last name) I offered to cut my hair so we didn't have to mess with this crap, now…..conditioner is our friend…get on with it"
The moral of my tale: Men shower like they shop. Deliberate, methodically, and cheap as possible, and avoid it at all possible costs.
I thought Chad loved you? Why would he not give you a wonderful, woman-type shower?
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