Bath Time Blues

Given a choice, do you prefer to take a long, hot shower or a leisurely soak in the tub? For me, I’ll take that shower, hands down. I know that they both waste water, but we gotta be clean.

I’ve been trying to get myself accustomed to taking long, luxurious, hot baths. I never did acquire much of a taste for bubble baths. I like the idea of them — but I can’t seem to relax in the tub. My mind is constantly churning about the things I should be doing instead of floating in the water. More than that though, “baths” don’t bring back good memories. On the other hand, if I stand in that steaming shower until the water turns cold, I feel quite mischievous!

When I was a kid, we mostly took showers — but they were always short ones, if Daddy was at home. My Daddy constantly told us, “Get wet, get soapy, get rinsed and get out!” He set the timer, and if we were in that shower for longer than three minutes, he started pounding on the bathroom door!

That is, until when I was a teenager and had a friend stay overnight. She didn’t know Daddy’s rules, and when she took her shower the next morning — oh my! She stayed in that hot water until my Daddy started hammering on the door. He thought it was me in there. She thought there was a fire or something, and it scared her half to death. She came running out of the bathroom half nekkid — which scared my Daddy half to death. I’m ashamed to say, I’m kinda glad it happened, because it cured Daddy of beating on the bathroom door.

My friend asked, “How come your Daddy won’t let you take long showers?” I answered, “Because he was in the Navy.” That was our standard excuse for my Daddy’s idiosyncrasies.

“How come your Daddy cusses like that?”

“Because he was in the Navy.”

“How come your Daddy has tattoos of nekkid women on his arms?”

“Because he was in the Navy.”

“How come your Daddy runs around in his underdrawers all the time?”

“Because he was in the Navy.”

Usually, we didn’t need much more explanation than that.

So mostly, we took those “military showers.” If we had to take a bath it usually meant bad news. “Bath time” was never “play time.” If we took a bath, it was in a couple of inches of tepid water with Lysol in the water. If you don’t know Lysol, it is a pretty powerful disinfectant. Momma used it to clean the toilet bowl. She also used it to kill chiggers.

I figure you don’t know “chiggers.” Of course you don’t, because you have to go outside to find one, and you are sitting there at your computer, aren’t you? Chiggers are tiny little mites that lurk in the grass waiting for unsuspecting children (or unknowing grownups) to come romping past. They hop aboard and burrow into the skin, causing red blisters all over a person’s legs..or arms…or even worse they get inside your pants. If you get chigger bites, you itch and burn and feel like you are being eaten from the inside out. You are.

These days, those little critters are pretty hungry. Nobody comes romping past them. Children don’t play outside except on playgrounds (when forced to do so) or on playing fields with plastic turf (that has been disinfected with Lysol). Kids don’t know the word “chigger.” When I was little, however, my siblings and I fed the chiggers regularly. We were always finding new fields to roam and grassy territory to explore.

Then, Momma got out that brown bottle of Lysol. A bath was never a pleasant experience, because it burned like all Hades. I guess it was those little chiggers trying to dig their way out. I hated those baths so much that they had to drag me kicking and screaming to the bathtub.

Now, the last few days, I’ve been trying to soak in a tub with some bath salts every day. My skin is peeling like crazy (I still don’t have a diagnosis), and the Epsom salts seems to soothe it. But, it also makes me itch which reminds me of chiggers, which reminds me of Lysol, which make me want to get out of the tub and run!

I’ve tried to make it a pleasant experience: I burn candles, play soft music, try to relax (if relaxing is even possible under the scrutiny of five felines). But, I have to set a timer to make me stay in the water! If I don’t, I’m ready to get out before the tub is full.

I’ve thought about investing in a fleet of rubber duckies to keep me occupied — but I don’t think it would work. Wonder if I’d get electrocuted if I took my computer in there and played Mahjong solitaire? I’ll sit still for hours if I can play Mahjong!

I feel like a whiny three year old.

Related posts:

1. Only The Good– A “Sinking” Feeling
2. A Moisturizing Treatment, Aerobic Workout, AND A Sparkling Bathroom
3. I Gave My Love A Cherry
4. Throwing In The Towel
5. All Roads Lead To Rhome

Tagged as: baths, chiggers, humor, Lysol