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.