This morning I showered with Batman

and Padme Amadala. And the letters A, C, and Z. And Polly Pocket.

As I sudsed my hair, I reflected upon my preconceived notion, prior to having children, that somehow parenthood endowed a person with a certain amount of laziness. Look, after all, at any mother's minivan on any given day of the week - how many stories have we heard about finding that single stinky sippy cup full of 3 month old milk under the seat? How many loaves of bread or buckets of nuggets could we compile if we took a parking lot's worth of minivans and vacuumed them out? I assumed (we all know how that works out) that it was sheer laziness that led a parent to live that sort of. . . dingy. . . lifestyle.

And good parents too. Plenty of AWESOME moms and dads have succumbed to the child-related mess, from pacifiers in purses to toys in the shower. But why?

Now that I've been a parent for 8 years, I think I know. If Prometheus could have made his liver stop growing back. . . if Sisyphus could have let the rock roll and wipe his brow -- they would, yes? To be clear, I do not believe that being a parent is torture - but I do believe that this aspect of parenting is torture: the sheer weight of duties done daily to absolutely no effect.

Recall, if you will, the Simpsons episode when Marge spends the day cleaning the kitchen. Her family barges in and the doors swing open to a sparkling haven. The doors swing back and it's covered in filth. This is, in a nutshell, part of the chaos of parenting.

And yet, recall the same cartoon when Marge gets the extra fancy house that cleans itself. She's left bored in the kitchen drinking wine at 10 a.m..

Sometimes the chaos is the best part.

But sometimes, just sometimes, you give up. Give in. Shower with Batman and crew.