the wiener mom doesn't shower alone

Just ten minutes was my hope. Just the ten, more would have been preposterous.

I think the shrieking started at minute 3. Three minutes, not so bad, but definitely room for improvement. I'm in the shower, with the fan on and the door closed and can still hear them.

Middle wiener, "Mine!" Big wiener, "No, mine!" Back and forth, escalating into incomprehensible high-pitched shrieks. Minute 4, Big wiener knocks on the door (yea! manners!) and then comes in complaining about his brother wiener, "Middle wiener won't share!" Surprise, surprise, he's two and a half; sharing is against his religion. Mind you, the thing that they're fighting over is a cardboard box.

Suddenly, I am thrust into the role of shower negotiator. No hostages yet, but with wieners you never know. I am calling forth the defense, the prosecution, the witnesses, all while I wash my hair and shave my legs. All my efforts are fruitless, or fruitful depending on how you look at it. The shrieking stops because they have reached a cease shriek amongst themselves.

Showering is just one of the many things I don't do alone. Others include going to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, checking email, writing this post (wieners have taken over the office!)... my wieners are part of a rebel anti-wiener mom coalition that work daily towards the untimely demise of any aloneness I may have. For now, we don't need back up, but little wiener is getting bigger everyday.