My Given Name Should’ve been Murphy…

You know that my maiden name is Moore, right?

No?

It is.

Heather Barbara-Ann Moore… or as Dad liked to call me. Heather “I Want” Moore.  Heh.  Such the comedian… it’s where I get it from…

I hated my last name.

HATED.

Seriously.

There was NOTHING that I liked about my maiden name so when I met a man whose last name fit well with Heather, I got knocked up and convinced him to marry me I was estatic.  (Go ahead and laugh.  I have not dated men before because of their last name… or because they were too short.. or had annoying voices… yes, I know, I’m INCREDIBLY shallow and vain.  I know this.  I seek forgiveness on a daily basis.)

Heather Jacobson.

It’s gotta nice ring, ya know?  My boss calls me HJ.  I like that.  Jacobson is a nice last name.  It goes with Heather and Matthew and Samara.

But I’m thinking that my last name should’ve been Murphy.  That doesn’t sound bad.  Heather Murphy.  It would take some time to get used to it, but at least if I introduced myself as Heather Murphy, or signed my name to things as Heather Murphy, maybe people would understand immediately…

That Murphy’s Law guy?  DIRECT BLOOD LINE.

I’m not kiddin’ y’all.  The DNA strands have to match.

So, all day I’ve been flitting around here because I have a date.  And when you only get a date once or twice a month, you get excited, ya know?  And when I say date, I mean, we get to go out with no children attached to us, demanding that we buy them this, or buy them that.  We get to walk through the aisles of Kroger and Wal-Mart (yes, that’s what we’re doing tonight.  It’s what we do on our dates.  I know… we’re so boring!) we might hear children crying for their parents, or screaming incessantly, but we know that they don’t belong to us.

(An aside:  The downfall to date nights is that we don’t have as much fun playing board games, or telling jokes, or any of the other dynamics of large groups and I have lesser tolerance for those over the age of 12 acting as if they are under the age of 12.  Anywho…)

But I’m excited because I have a date.  And I’m thinking about all the things that I have to do for said date which would include a shower and make up and the whole nine yards.  He deserves that, ya know?

The clock hits 5 and I think, “I need to go get in the shower.” But because I’m a great employee and diligent with my work, I’m ADHD and the meds are wearing off, I sit here for another 15 minutes.

At 5:15 I go to get in the shower… I have a good 45 minutes until 6 when their father is supposed to get here.  As I passed Matthew in the living room I said, “I’m going to hop in the shower…you watch.  Your dad will be early.”

See, I was trying to be better about things this time.  Normally, I get the kids out the door and THEN I get in the shower which makes me late when he comes to pick me up and then I’m STARVING because I’ve spent so much time after the kids leave.  I thought, If I get in the shower BEFORE the kids leave, then I’ll be golden.

That’ll teach me to think.

So…I’m in the shower and the tunes are cranked and the little heater’s on because it’s negative three degrees in this house today and I’ve shaved one leg and I’m just about to shave the other so that I can rinse the conditioner out of my hair when I hear Matthew screaming through the bathroom door.

I couldn’t hear him, obviously, with Toby Mac singing and the heater and the water but when I finally convinced Matthew that he could, you know, open the door, that I was completely behind the shower curtain and that it was okay to enter and not see me naked, he entered.

And guess what he said?

“Dad’s here.”

It couldn’t have been any later than 5:35 or so.  No way.

::sigh::

“You’ll have to get your uniform and go.  Tell him I’ll call him later.”  There was just no way that I could get out there to see him in a quick amount of time.  That and I had no clothes in the bathroom to put on, meaning I would have to greet my ex-husband wrapped in a towel.

You’re laughing at the thought aren’t you?

I know you are.

Wanna laugh a little harder?

I know you do.

One time at band camp I tried to steal a shower before he got here only that time?

Matthew didn’t have the sense to tell me that his dad was here.  So I get out of the shower and go be-bopping from the bathroom to my room, adorned with only a towel…one over my body and one holding my hair, and walk into the living room only to find him standing there.

Awkward?

Slightly.  Good thing we’re friends and, really?

It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked.

We had sex.  At least twice.

Anywho…

(Did you know he and his wife read?  Well, I asked him about it once, and he told me that he really only reads when his wife is reading and starts laughing uncontrollably and tells him to come and read it.  This is probably a post that he will read.  Because his wife will tell him that I talked about him seeing me naked.  Ha!)

So there you have it.  I should learn that showers should not take place until the children have left the home.

Of course, I’m not even going to get into what happens when you try to dry off with a towel that the dog decided to lay on while you were showering…

Nope… just going to sign my name to this one…

Heather Murphy.

It all makes sense!

Until next time…