All Things Warm and Wonderful

I had posted here about all things shower, tub, and shower cap. Since tub baths were something we didn't have the pressure or hot water for, they were a longed-for luxury in my life.

About every two years, I would make the trip to New Mexico to visit grandparents and other family members. My paternal grandparents lived in a double-wide trailer with a huge master bedroom and an enormous step-in tub. When I was 10, I distinctly remember asking Grandma if I could possibly, if it was ok, take a bath in that tub.

"Well," responded Grandma, "I don't mind, but only on one condition."

Here goes. I'm going to have to heat water on the stove or go out to a well and hand pump.

"You may take a bath, but I insist you use bubble bath."

Ok, I want to put this into perspective. Those of you who grew up in Southern California will know exactly what I'm talking about here. What if the conversation were actually something like this?

"Grandma, could you please take me to Disneyland?"

"Well, yes, but on one condition. You have to take this extra money and buy only E Tickets."

I still remember that bath. Wow.

When I married and moved to the desert, water, especially hot water, was something that came cheaply and easily. I must have spent the first 3 of twelve months in the tub. I couldn't get enough of that hot, bubbly, wonderfulness. My cousin's family has coined a phrase for this. Each time they see Vicki, his wife, heading off to the bathroom with a good book, they'll holler out, "There goes Mom! Tub-ernating again!"

And who wouldn't want to spend an hour or two in the tub?

Many will think that the stay-at-home Mom soaks in the tub because it's the only place she can be alone. Those who think that are obviously not stay-at-home moms. Believe me, my mind is fully aware of the pulse and happenings in my home.

I thought I would be safe last night by taking a later bath. As I sank into the hot water, each of my muscles groaned aloud and sang my praises at the city gate. I had no sooner settled into "tub position"* when my mind began to go through the checklist.

Ok, Himself is fed. Rats, I forgot to buy creamer again. It's so cool that Glenna is hanging out with her Dad and enjoying a show. I know Glenna did her Algebra and Spanish today. Wait . . . what about . . .

"Glenna?"

"Yeah, Mom?"

"English?"

"Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhh!!! No!!!!"

I sigh and snuggle in a little more. There's no hurry to get out now because it's going to be a long night.


*Tub Position: Head leaning back, toes shoving wash cloth against the annoying round overflow, knees sticking up. Occasionally sift to sitting up more with knees covered. Repeat.