I spent the past couple of days with Carter*, a little boy whom I care for whenever he travels to my province, or I travel to his. We have a riot together; we play in the mud, in pools, in large art installations, whatever he or I can think of. Late last night after returning to my parent’s house after spending the day with him I had this text conversation with his Mom.

9:50 PM   From the little guy’s Mom

Carter says you washed his hair. Is that true?

9:51 PM   From the Great Unwashed

What? No, I don’t bathe myself, why would I bathe him?

9:52 PM   From the Great Unwashed

He picked the wrong person to fib about. Anyone else would have bathed him.

9:53 PM   From the little guy’s Mom

Well I wouldn’t have double checked with anyone else.

I’m going declare this text conversation a massive, Unwashed triumph. It pleases me immensely that I’m known the country over for my avoidance of showers.

* Names have been changed to protect identities of the innocent and apparently future Unwashed.