If I invite you over, I’ll be in the shower when you get here. It’s some kind of universal law. I am always the last to get ready because I’m running around picking up, trying to get Tiny-Small dressed, or trying to squeeze in a quick blog post before you arrive. Even when I am ahead of schedule and jump in the shower early, I’ll still be in the shower when you get here because, for some reason, on that day, you will arrive a little early.
It happens every time. I was thinking about this yesterday when I was in the shower and Jim quickly opened the door and said, “That guy is here about that thing already.” So, I had to rush around and rinse the soap off and pull on clothes as quickly as possible while having a flashback to my childhood.
My mother was also always in the shower when guests arrived. I don’t know if we have time management issues or just don’t delegate chores well or both, but somehow everyone else is ready when guests arrive and we are always in the shower.
These are the moment in my adult life when I am acutely aware of how much I am turning into my mother. It’s amazing how quickly it starts to happen. First, people will say you look alike. Then you start noticing you are adopting all of those weird habits your swore you never would. I always swore I’d be ready when people arrived, but here I am in the shower when everyone arrives. It’s like I can’t crack the code or break the spell. I am just turning into my mother at an increasingly rapid pace.
I have so much more understanding for the struggles my mother faced when we are kids. I guess that is because I am living them now. When you are running around trying to create a pleasant atmosphere, clean children, prepare food, and make your house look at least slightly better than usual right before someone comes over, it’s almost impossible to also make yourself look respectable in time. Running out of time happens so easily when you are focused on getting things done for everyone else. Your husband can’t find clean socks. Your daughter is hiding under the kitchen table refusing to brush her teeth and before you know it your guest is knocking at the door and you are still standing in the living room wearing blue, sheep pajamas with a Flock of Seagulls type hairdo.
I remember, eventually, that my mom just stopped doing all of the things for everyone else. She’d just say, “Don’t forget to bring a sweater.” If we forgot, oh well, we were cold. I guess I’ll get there eventually, but Tiny-Small is still small and our house will always be a bit chaotic. We are chaotic people. I can’t keep up with it all.
So, for now, when you get here I will be in the shower, but maybe one day, in like a decade or so, I’ll finally take a shower early and delegate better to my family. That day will be worth celebrating because our friends will finally know what I look like with dry hair.
One can only hope.