She Embarrassed Me

And it would be far from the last time she would. Yes. My mother embarrassed me. Some may say that's her job. I'll be the judge of that. 😂

Showering while camping was always a complex situation. As described here our family had a rhythm, & within that rhythm I had one of my own. Usually it was to just go & get it done & over with. Dirt & germs were always in question. Would any of my things touch something which I'd rather they not touch?

I don't remember a time when our family didn't camp. In fact this incident may have been from when we still camped in a tent, before we had our pop-up camper.

Mom would head over to the toilet/shower building with me &, if we needed to wait in line for the stalls, she'd let me go first; otherwise I'd be awkwardly waiting around for someone to finish up while she showered. Besides, if I went first & then she quickly did, we'd basically be in the building together. I'd call out to her when I'd finish up that much quicker (which is most often how it happened to be) & she'd know I'd be on a direct path on back to the campsite where Dad would be prepping our family breakfast or getting ready to head out on the road if we were on a sightseeing camp trip & breakfast would be after we left the campground. It was also basic keeping-track-of-our-young-child behavior - so I'd not be "snagged" by someone other than our family.

This particular morning Mom paid too much attention. There were a number of women waiting to shower after us; when I stepped into the shower stall I knew of at least three women in line. I began my "routine". A bench sat right inside & at least one metal hook was screwed into the stall's wall directly above; I began hanging my things up & sorting my stuff out.

I turned on the shower's water after figuring out the dial. I began leaning in & wetting my hair. I don't remember how old I was, though I know I had plenty of thick, dark hair. And I began the process of being in a foreign space, where I wasn't certain of my surroundings, just trying to manage as I could & suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear my mother's voice exclaim, "YOU CAN STEP INTO THE SHOWER!!!" {snicker, snicker, giggle, giggle} That's the line-up of ladies awaiting a shower giggling at me. Oh my. It's my shower. It's my awkward space. It's my private time. And there my mother is criticizing my cleanliness skills.

I still find certain camp shower stalls rather uninviting. The ones with lots of large, dark & ugly, uninviting ceramic tiles, as well as the ones with dull dark brick to be difficult to really use. I basically get in them & completely focus on just getting done & out of there. Some of the stalls are designed so that there's a "floor wall", or a lip around the base of the shower separating the shower itself from where the camper's belongings go; that's the sort of set up at this campground where Mom said these magic words.

Other campgrounds had a tile drain where they'd angle the flooring so that the floor was essentially all the same between where the camper's bench & metal hanging hooks would be & where the shower head would be; only the shower curtain would stand between then. These I preferred. I found them more inviting & easier to adjust & manage my routine within.

As much as we camped, Mom & Dad always had our family keep to every basic hygienic routine & normality. Even when we'd come back from a long day of sightseeing (where I'd lie occasionally) we were to brush our teeth (we had these & these) & use the toilet before crawling in our sleeping bags atop the pop-up camper mattresses. I'd be too worn out to get aboard that idea & would just hold it all the better. I've a stronger bladder to this day for it! 😂 And brushing my teeth, well I just decided to manage without for that night (& whatever other nights I'd get to being that lazy. After all I *was* at camp & on vaca!).

Then again, some say that at the heart of a good & real camping trip is a camper who skips showering all together. That's a train I could definitely get aboard!

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