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October 24, 2001
First you talk the boy into taking a shower.
This takes about 7 days - 10 if he's being ornery.
Of course, when it's been 10 days -----.
He raised his arm at the hospital last week and his
pregnant doctor almost fainted!
So we forced a waist-up sponge bath on him.
Pissed him off - claimed we had taken his dignity.
I ignored him and washed him down.
He was mad.
But he smelled better.
Considering what else happened last Thursday -- the
bath was a God-send! For those of us that had to hold him up.
Today I wasn't taking any prisoners - it was shower
of else!
Or else I reload the water cannon.
So he walked himself down the hall - a bit stiff
legged - cane and wall or cane and lean on Mom.
Into the bathroom.
Detouring to the bedroom in a bid to escape.
He even went so far as to sit down.
Oh no kiddo! It's been 7 days! The doctor is pregnant!
Have pity on her!
Besides, she'll yell at me.
I attempt to unbutton his shirt.
Oh yes.
I forgot.
He was wearing clothes today- a shirt and boxers.
Instead of stalking the house in the nude - which he is prone to do since
his stretch marks have stretch marks and they hurt. The doctor tells us
that this is unique.
And he had walked to the family room. This is a good
thing.
Back in the bathroom, he's batting my hands away
as I try to unbutton the dirty shirt, which is wearing part of his lunch,
and he's giggling.
He wants to pull the shirt off the teenager way -
over the head - still buttoned.
I grab for his boxer shorts - threatening.
He drops the shorts and steps into the shower. Not
before checking his pecs in the mirror - his upper body is back in shape.
He brags that his chest is bigger than mine - that part anyway. I remind
him that I paid $15,000 to have mine reduced.
Once he's in the shower and stable, I pull the partial
drape shut - I have two drapes - one at one end - one at the other - I
can reach in the middle.
He turns on the water and, after accidentally hitting
himself with cold water, gets it adjusted.
To check the temperature, he removes the portable
showerhead and aims it over the top of the shower curtain.
This is why I am in a bathing suit.
I encourage him to wet his hair.
He is not aiming at the top of his head.
"All of it!" I demand. We go through this every week.
He's smirking. He liks to push my buttons.
Finally wet, I get both hands on him, giving his
hair a much-needed washing.
This is a stretch - since he is 6'1"and in the tub
and I am 5'5" and barefoot.
Then he hangs onto whatever (I have tension rods
in there and there is always the shower pipe itself) and I soap up the
washcloth.
He can't soap up and hang on at the same time.
I wash his back - he squawks.
I do his arms - underarms - one I can reach - I have
to get in the tub to get the other one.
He claims I am tickling him.
I tell him I am on cootie patrol.
I wash his legs - because he cannot bend over and
keep his balance. He can rinse off without using soap - and he's done
that a few times. Even without me being home. It's the soap part that
still eludes him.
He makes wise cracks that I need to watch how high
I go.
He also snaps his longish wet hair to get me wetter
than I already am.
He gets to wash his nether zones all by himself -
I draw the line there - unless he is unconscious and there is no nurse
in sight.
I have been spared that so far.
He can't seem to rinse all the soap bubbles off completely
- because this is a smaller-than-average tub and he is a bigger-than-average
20 year old.
So I get the shower head and rinse him off - which
leads to more wise remarks.
About where I am aiming that water.
We are done and I hold up the bath towel - and get
him somewhat in it (it fits around his waist).
He grabs me and hugs me thoroughly - because this
way he can dry himself off and get me very, very wet.
He also dries his hair by rubbing his head down my
front.
Beaming because he has now soaked me through.
We parade to his room - me holding the towel up -
I put another one around his head and dry his hair and drape his shoulders.
I toss clean clothes at him and run for cover.
I am bedraggled, wet, my makeup running and my hair
frizzing.
But the boy is clean.
Now I need to get him out of the house for his weekly
blood test. That's a whole 'nother adventure.
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