Pocketful of Sunshine

I got a pocketful of sunshine, I got a love and I know that he’s all mine, oh woah.

Pocketful of sunshine is my jam. No seriously. Whenever the song comes on I loose control. This is also my fathers favorite song. We enjoyed long car rides singing along to it and dancing. Well I sing and my dad kind of said every other word off key and off tune. Needless to say, it was my shower song. What you should know about me is that I am an avid shower singer/dancer/performer. I have a substantial amount of hair and my arms get tired after shampooing and conditioning it so I add some music to it to make it more entertaining. This makes it a bit more dangerous as well.

So here I am, following my normal showering routine. First I strip and wrap myself in my towel. Normal right? Then I turn on my favorite current song (Usually something Justin Timberbabe). I dance for a bit. Grab a hair brush and use it as a microphone. Normal right? Right. Then I finally get into the shower. This happens about 10 or 15 minutes later. I pile my hair onto my head while I shave or use the shower gel of the day. Shower gel of the day? Whatever could she mean? This means that every day I have a designated shower gel. I have a rotation calendar of about 4 different scents. Still normal right? Right. Once I’m done with this I am usually onto my 3rd or 4th song in my shower playlist. AKA Pocketful of sunshine. On this day I was feeling a little more, how should I put this, happy. I decided to get really into the song. So here I am shampooing my never ending hair, screaming along to natasha beddingfield, and dancing. Yes. Dancing. Judge me. I dare you. Yes, I am a shower dancer. Now that you have gotten over the shock of me dancing in the shower you can focus on the story again. But then again the story truly begins with me dancing in the shower. So there I am, unstoppable, invincible, and loud. You should also know that I have a choreographed dance to the song. Suddenly, the chorus comes on and I go for the final spin and my foot comes in contact with some stray hair conditioner that had fallen out of my hand. This caused the shower floor to become very slippery and caused my face to ram straight into the sharp edge of my shower door handle. I slumped to the bottom of the tub, laughing hysterically for I could not believe what had just occurred. I was not concerned until I saw red specks all over the shower. I put my hand up to my face and it was covered in blood. (I am not squeamish to blood. I want to be a trauma surgeon). So I calmly rinse out the rest of the conditioner from my hair ignoring the pain as pocketful of sunshine turned into it’s getting hot in here blood still dripping down my face. I wrap a towel around myself and go to face the bloody mess that is my nose. No, my nose was not broken (I had previously broken my nose which caused a deviated septum. So I couldn’t exactly breathe out of it anyways.) There was a large chunk out of the top part of it missing. Yes. Part of the flesh was gone and a large amount of skin. I quickly cleaned it out and put some antiseptic cream on it with a large bandaid and was on my merry way. I didn’t think to much of it until my mother questioned me. I explained what had happened in the shower and she exploded with laughter. I showed her the damage and she was repulsed. My mom was a little bit squeamish.

To say the least, I was not embarrassed at all. I took pride in telling my story. I was judged plenty and it was worth it. Also I got a really cool pack of leopard print bandaids. So all in all, it was a pretty chill experience. Update, I still dance in the shower but have suffered no shower-dancing related injuries since this incident occurred (2010).


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