But in all seriousness, what I could really use was a shower.

The kind with warm water and soap.

In the weeks following the birth of my child.

By myself.

For longer than 90 frantic seconds while an infant in a bassinet on the floor next to the toilet wails and makes me cry and leak all at the same time until I step out of said shower dripping wet to pick the infant up and put her to my breast before sitting on the lid of the toilet, still crying, with my still-slippery-soapy body getting suds all over the place.