As some of you know, Copperhead’s tantrums are EPIC! She is naturally quite defiant. We like to be polite about it and say that she is “challenging” or “strong-willed”. Really she can break our spirit with an unblinking stare that is nearly always followed by a swift kick to the chest.

The reason I start the post with this piece of information is not only for sympathy, but also to lay ground work for what is to follow. I also want to add here that Little Man (aka Non-Adult Human Male) is sitting next to me as I write. He’s playing with his new playdoh (that nearly auto-corrected to Playboy) and the fumes are starting to get to me. Hopefully I can stay lucid enough for this post to make sense.

According to Katie MY RELAXING SHOWER

According to Katie MY RELAXING SHOWER


I’ll go for a quick shower while you watch the kids”, I said to Hubby one Saturday morning.

So, off I skip towards the bathroom. Full of naivety and hope.

It’s not ten seconds before I am joined by Copperhead declaring that she needs to poop. Hubby comes in, closely followed by Little Red and Jones. I quickly jump in the shower so I don’t have to do anything and he proceeds to strip her off, and place her on the loo. We’re in the middle of toilet training and so it can take a while. In the meantime, LR has pulled the shower curtain in a way so that only her head is peering up at me. Those that know me, know I have a thing about floating heads, so it was quite disturbing to say the least.

At this point, Little Man and Alfie (aka Appie/Happy because the girls can’t pronounce his name) have also entered the bathroom. I continue to lather up my hair, under the watchful eye of LR, and try to block out all the noise. After C has finished her business, she obviously needs to wash her hands. So, first I get scolded by the toilet flushing, then by the tap being on for several minutes. She’s very thorough, I’ll give her that.


Hubby somehow manages to clear the bathroom which is arguably the smallest room in the house but where we all seem to spend most of our time. Together. Holding hands and offering moral support and that kind of thing.

I wonder what the weather is doing as I idly consider shaving my legs when I start to smell a frighteningly familiar whiff. I shout for Michael to come and clear the cat litter tray. Little people obviously follow him and this time it’s Little Man who strikes up a conversation with me. I believe the subject was something along the lines of “why do you have such large nipples?”.

Copperhead starts trying to take her clothes off so she can join me and Little Red is shrieking because the offending cat has just ran past her giving her a fright. Hubby is getting stressed and a bit shouty so I say I’ll be out soon. They all take one last long lingering look at me and file out of the door. Which Michael then thankfully closes behind him. It’s not long before the cries of Copperhead can be heard along with the rattling of the door as she desperately tries to smash it open.


As I get out of the shower I see tiny fingers poke underneath the door. They’re trying to grasp onto the bottom of it and, (I’m not even adding drama here), trying to wrench the evil blockade from it’s hinges. Since I know it’s Copperhead I’m genuinely scared.

Firstly because there is a chance that she could succeed due to the fact she is freakishly strong. THEN we’d have to awkwardly hang a beach towel from the frame that would probably only give privacy to our top half. Secondly, is she doing it because she misses me? Or is it just because she’s angry that I had a shower without her?

I’m finally ready to open the door and she flops into my arms. Turns out she just wanted her Mummy, who is surprisingly, fairly relaxed!

K x


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