October 8 13

It’s no secret that I am terrified to shower when I am home alone.


I have mentioned the three things I will assume happens when I dare derobe and have the audacity to clean myself.

The first is this: I always assume that there’s something at the door from UPS or Purolator or, say, the York Region Police.

The second is this: I always a assume that there’s a baby crying. Even though my baby is eight years old. And not at home.

The third—and most important—is this: I assume the entire ordeal with end in a Psycho-esque knife stabbing.


You know where this story is going, right?

I have this dog, I may have mentioned him once or eleven billion times. He’s Indy the Wonder Puppy and you’ll be happy to know that he’s the laziest dog on earth—he thinks he’s a cat, I’m convinced—and has given up his surgery-inducing habit of eating undergarments. He basically spends his day at my feet and really only gets excited for two things—when he hears the carrot peeler in use and when someone comes to the door. He’s the best guard dog.

Also, his vision is impeccable thanks to all of the carrot begging.

So, there I was, in the shower, singing poorly.



Bark bark bark.

Bark bark bark bark bark.

Oh shit.

It’s UPS, obviously. That was my first thought.

It’s the baby, obviously. That was my second thought.

It’s a murderer with a knife, obviously. That was my third thought. Seconds before I almost stroked out and/or passed out.

I jumped out of the shower, in my birthday suit. Mid-drip. I didn’t even have time for a towel.

“Hello?” I called out.

I’m really good at decisions.

Bark, bark, bark.

Loud rumbly noises coming from the kitchen.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

All of a sudden I’m doing everything wrong. I’m that stupid girl in the horror movie who runs toward the danger.

More loud noises coming from the kitchen.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god.


“Oh, hi, Mama. I needed an extra layer so I decided to come home with my friend to pick one up.”


“You may want to put some clothing on.”


“I’m going back to school now. Bye Mama. Bye Indy.”


I may never recover. Or shower again.

  1. This is why whenever I hear a strange noise I just hide under the covers (or behind the shower curtain)

    Comment by Jen on October 8, 2013
  2. Moving toward the sound was…WHY DID I DO THAT?

    Comment by ali on October 8, 2013
  3. I always do that, too. Hear something in the house at night? Run down the hallway. Think something is outside my window? Throw back the curtains to see what it is.

    On another note, what’s with the bathtub faucet in the shower? I have seen it on TV/in photos before and always wondered what the point was…you wacky Canadians. (And Europeans? I really have no idea)

    Comment by Meghan on October 8, 2013
  4. I cannot even begin to imagine why that faucet is there. It’s so weird, right?

    Comment by ali on October 8, 2013
  5. This is why I make sure the fan is on in the bathroom and it is so loud I can’t hear anything else. Because no good comes from that.

    Comment by Kristabella on October 8, 2013
  6. Did you hear people screaming at you, “No. No girl. Get back in that shower. Jump out that window! Don’t draw attention…oh…she did…I can’t watch this”…
    My dog is a jerk. He eats undergarments too. Pervert.

    Comment by Kimberly on October 10, 2013

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