This is a story all about how my shower got flipped turned upside down. I’d like to take a minute. Just sit right there, I’ll tell you how an ear of corn interrupted washing my hair.
BTW if you didn’t notice, that was supposed to be sung to the tune of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song….Go back and try it again….I’ll wait.
I tell JHub that I’m not feeling well so I’m going to take a shower and he’s on QMonster duty. A few minutes after stepping into my steamy oasis, Q is standing at the shower door (nothing new here) telling me he wants some corn. I said “huh? Corn?” And he scurried off.
A few minutes later he comes back in the bathroom holding a 4 pack of corn on the cob saying he wants the corn. Listen, I have NO CLUE how he walked through the living room RIGHT PAST JHUB without JHub noticing the corn but he did. So I tell Q to go tell his daddy to open the corn for him. Q scurries off. I proceed to wash my hair.
A few minutes later Q comes back in a huff. He’s whining “daddy says I can’t have cold corn. He has to cook it.” Me: “is he cooking it?” Q: “No.” Me (while trying to rinse shampoo from hair): “soooo where is the corn.” Q: “in the chair with daddy” Me: “so tell your daddy to give you some corn” Q: “I want cold corn!” Me: “tell your daddy to come here and talk to me.” At this point Q runs off and I finish washing my hair.
While shaving my legs, Q comes back. First thing he says “Momma!! Daddy won’t come here.” I look over and he’s holding an ear of corn. I tell him as long as he got what he wanted it’s fine if daddy doesn’t come talk to me. Q starts complaining there is “hair” on his corn and that he doesn’t like it. I told him to let daddy heat it up. He runs off with the corn. I get out of the shower and start drying off. Q comes back in, corn-less, saying his hands smell like corn and he needs to wash them. We wash his hands. I get on my pjs and we walk to the kitchen.
I find JHub standing at the microwave heating up the darn corn on the cob. He takes it out of the microwave and hands it to Q. Q turns his nose up and says he wants it “cut free” aka off the cob. So, I cut the damn kernels off the cob. I tell him it needs butter and salt but he swears it doesn’t. He sits down to eat. Q smells the corn and says “yuck! It needs butter and salt.” So I doctor it up, heat it back up, and set it in front of him.
He smells it again. Looks at the corn. Looks at me. Looks back at the corn. Pushes the plate towards me and says “I’m not hungry. Ready to go to bed?”
And that, my friends, is how an ear of corn ruined my shower.