I was in the shower today and I wanted to take a bath, so I made my shower as calming as I could, like a bath. Ran the water hot. Lit a candle. Decided I would take longer. Luxuriate in the quiet. Birds chirping outside the window. Rain falling. My son asleep for his afternoon nap. My husband on an errand. The house to myself in as much a way as I can have it.
The heat of the water hit my neck in that spot near the top of my scapula that is always tight and I bent to let the weight of my head fall forward. The water would fall over my head, onto my neck and then over my face. It felt like letting go. The scent of the lavender, the rain and I was just beginning to feel calm…
“BABY SHARK DOOO DOOO DOO DOO DOO DOO BABY SHARK…MOMMY SHARK DO DOO DO DOO DOO DOO…”
Loudly. Mechanically. With a strange clicking sound. I realized the water must be hitting my son’s bath toys and, maddeningly, the goddamn yellow baby shark plastic thing has no off switch. It just kept going, through the round. Baby, Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, Grandpa, Let’s Go Hunt, Run Away, Safe At Last, Its The End. Then a pause and it would start over again. I kept thinking, wishing, it would just stop. Baby, Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, Grandpa, Let’s Go Hunt, Run Away, Safe At Last, Its The End. Over and over and over and over…
I threw the thing out of the shower. But it was still going, fin clicking back and forth, looking for water to splash, but now on the tile floor. Baby, Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, Grandpa, Let’s Go Hunt, Run Away, Safe At Last, Its The End…
F-ing Baby Shark.
If you’re a mother, you knew I would get to this sometime. It may be a surprise it took so long.
I think this episode, which is true, is metaphor enough without me having to walk it through.
Whomever Pinkfong is can suck it.
Menopausal Mommy 