My life is full of it.
In fact, my life is so jam-packed with irony that I'm bathing in it.
I've got the pictures to prove my point.
Prepare yourself. It's not pretty.
Make it STOP!
It's not the horrific mold or the water stains that makes my blood run cold...
It's not the ancient tub caked with soap scum and other unidentified whatnot that gives me the shivers...
It's not even the cracks in the green 80's tile that scares the mess out of me.
As scary (and slightly embarrassing) as mold, 80's tile, and soap scum can be, they pale in comparison to the (I can hardly write it) FISH tiles on the wall.
For a girl who HATES fish, abhors fish, can't STAND fish -- having FISH tiles in the ONLY bathroom in the house is the textbook definition of Irony.
Did you catch that we only have ONE bathroom?
One shower with disgusting fish tiles.
I haven't taken a bath since we've moved here.
A bath in our house would mean that a normally relaxing time would turn into a radical exposure therapy session for me.
I think I'll stick to showers.
Showers mean that the freaky fish aren't at eye level.
Showers mean that I can try to ignore the fact that the nasty, gross, fish tiles are less than a foot away from me.
Go ahead, laugh at me, but there's a name for my disease people.
It's a real thing. I googled it, so it has to be true.
It's called Ichthyophobia.
According to Wikipedia:
Ichthyophobia is a variety of a specific phobia which is an intense and persistent fear of fish, described in Psychology: An International Perspective as: an "unusual" specific phobia.
I'll bet you feel like a jerk for laughing now, huh?
I know it's ridiculous... I know... but I've seriously considered painting over those tiles until we can manage to replace them.
The problem is that Avery really likes the fishy tiles.
It's looking like as long as Finding Nemo is on her favorite Movie List, there will be no relaxing bubble baths for Mommy.
The sacrifices of motherhood. Will it ever end?