As a child of the 1970’s, I have taken some messages from the Village People to heart and am a long-time member of the YMCA.
I’ve been trying to swim regularly to decrease the postpartum flab.
(Exactly how many months can I blame the flab on postpartum-ness? Because I’m coming up on 10 months and still working that argument to DEATH.)
Anyway, after swimming, if I have time, I like to go into the steam room.
Yesterday there was a man in there with headphones on and he was singing Gospel at top volume.
I have to admit that he had a reasonably good voice – which is saying something because when I have ear phones on the singing that comes out of my mouth tends to be completely off key… but then, that is also usually true when I’m NOT wearing headphones...
As I sat in there with him I amused myself by thinking snarky thoughts like, “Quick! Somebody call Ryan Seacrest…” But of course, the fates would have to punish me for this…
Immediately after thinking sweaty, SMARTASS thoughts, I got in the shower.
I got all good and soapy when ZOOOOOOOOP the soap slipped out of my hand, shot out of the shower stall and into the center of the room – which also happens to be the main, and very public, thoroughfare from the ladies locker room to door to the pool.
Reluctantly, I waddled out in all my glory to get the soap.
Spotting it, I bent over – third eye winking at the room – and ZOOOOOOP – the soap shot further away.
Without standing up, I scrambled after the soap, my periscope still UP.
I finally caught up with the Dove (because I am a "real woman") and hurried, now upright, back to the privacy of my shower stall.
While in that compromising position, certain things must have – well – SHIFTED, because once safely back behind my curtain I released a completely involuntary foghorn blast that hurt my nose.
My son only recently discovered that he has a “little hole in his butt for making poo poo.” I think I’ll let that settle with him before I let him know that thanks to a genetic gift from his mother that very same hole also functions as a loud and sometimes unpredictable, public announcement system.
"ATTENTION ALL YMCA PATRONS: WINKY “THIRD EYE” WINKENHEIMER IS BACK IN HER SHOWER STALL. IT IS ONCE AGAIN SAFE TO WALK THROUGH THE SHOWER ROOM. PLEASE HOLD YOUR NOSE.”
Thou shalt not think sweaty, smartass thoughts.