I’m not one for bathing.

That doesn’t sound right.

I don’t normally bathe.

Let me clarify.

The opposite of the cleaning-of-the-body-with-the-falling-water kind of bathing. The kind in a bathtub with warm water that covers all my chubby body parts.

I haven’t taken a real bath in probably 22 years or more.

My bathroom has a massive garden tub that’s been used as our dirty clothes hamper for the last 7 years. I finally cleaned it out a few months ago to give our girls a bigger, more bath-giver-friendly space.

It’s been mocking me with its clean, empty, welcoming, open arms.

Until today. I finally took advantage of the clean tub and the lazy afternoon, and I took a LONG LOOONG bath.

And it? Was naked heaven.

I locked the door, turned up the heat in the tub, dropped the kids off at the pool (I’d hate to have had to get out of the warm water to drop a deuce), got naked (ew), and stepped in.

OHHHHHH MAMA.

Mama likes.

I stayed in for about 45 minutes reading the first pages of Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

My girls knocked on the door a few times, utterly confused why I was A) in the bath tub, B) locking the door, and C) wondering if they could have lollipops.

I’m gonna be making this my new weekend routine. Next weekend, I’ll be locking the bedroom door to keep out the riff-raff and plan enough time to have a nap afterward.

All it takes is planning and having daddy home to answer the ridiculous questions about lollipops and why I’m naked in the middle of a Saturday.

Most of my blog posts are written as I shower which explains a lot about the overwhelming self-deprecating overtones of my posts.

It’s also the reason most of my posts are disjointed and make little sense. My ratio of “Awesomeness thought in the shower” TO “Awesomeness actually typed” is pretty high.

It also explains why I sometimes forget to wash my body when I’m too busy thinking of the Awesome and not thinking about what needs to be done in the shower. It doesn’t, however, explain how I sometimes get into the shower still wearing my bra.

One of my favorite times to take a shower is after the girls are in bed. It’s nighttime but not my bedtime, I can wash my hair, and no one will be bothering me needing their butt wiped while I’m all wet WHICH HAS TOTALLY HAPPENED.

I have crazy-thick curly hair, so it doesn’t get washed every day. Three times a week is a good week. Washing before bed leaves a wet pillow which is way worse than The Wet Spot because there’s only two sides to a pillow.

All this is to tell you that while I’m in the shower lifting up my fupa to check out what’s doing below, I’m thinking of you.

What do you think about in the shower?

How long can I go without washing my hair before I can consider myself still clean without bragging that I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve washed my hair?

I’m thinking it has to do with when I start to constantly scratch my head while I think, “Damn, I really need to wash my hair.”

Sometimes that length of time is 2 days, sometimes it’s as long as 5 days. I think. I’m not good at keeping track of my shower schedule. Apparently.

I have long, flowing, naturally curly, naturally blond locks of hair with a touch of un-naturally pink highlights underneath the mane. It’s awesome hair. I’m not really bragging; it really is awesome. It’s the one thing I have to brag about aside from my webbed toes. The answer to your question is YES, I can swim faster because of my webbed toes. Probably faster than Michael Phelps. donotdestroymyolympicdreams

I do take showers regularly. Most days. Almost all of the days. On average.

I don’t always wash my hair. It weighs about 4.92 pounds, give-or-take, by itself so washing it every day would mean drying it every day. And that ain’t happening. Mold would start to grow up in there, and that would NOT be pretty unless you find moldy, stinky hair sexy, and if you do, please get some help.

My 2-3-day-old unwashed MOUSSED hair is more than awesome. I actually get compliments on it. Actual compliments. It’s kinda nice. It can take way too long (TEN WHOLE MINUTES) to fix my hair when it does get fixed, and that’s a lot of Twitter quality time with my kids.

When I do take the time to actually FIX the mane, I tend to keep it fixed for as long as I can, where “can” = “until I can smell it and/or I can’t scratch my scalp enough to take the itch away.”

Moral of this story: If you see me scratching my head, it’s hair-washing day so don’t stick your nose up in my coif. Lesson learned.