Turning Into a Prune

I’ve noticed the only time I can “get away” is by taking a shower. You heard me. It is just quiet and peaceful while I am in the shower. I don’t care if WWIII is going on out in my living room as long as it doesn’t bring itself to the threshold of the bathroom. If I close my eyes and concentrate really hard I can see myself standing under a light waterfall in Hawaii. While I wash my hair I smell the scent of tropical fruit….. I’m happy, life is good…. BANG! BANG! BANG! on the bathroom door. My eyes fly open (ouch! shampoo is not good for washing eyes-it burns) and I’m snapped back into reality. “What is it?” “I’ve gotta question.” “Can it please wait another 10 minutes?” “No, it’s important.” “Are you dying? Are there broken bones? Is someone coughing up blood? No? Then it can wait for a few minutes.” “Mom, you’re gross.” “Now let me get back to my Hawaiian vacation.” “Huh? Hawaiian what?” Lalalalala…..I can’t hear you.