I scour the drug-store aisle brimming with body wash in every scent: Mango, tangerine, cucumber-mint. Am I actually in the produce section? Then there are the vacation-infused shower gels of Hawaiian Breeze and Ocean Paradise. Where is the bubble bath? Finally, I spot it: a lone bottle of the store-brand variety on a bottom shelf.
Apparently actual bubble bath, as opposed to body wash or shower gel, is such an oddity these days it isn’t even dignified with a lively label. No lavender sprigs or grapefruit slices artfully floating on the front, just an 8-point font of the words, Aloe Vera. I undo the lid and it smells wonderful –clean—even without the fruit or vacation.
Where have all the bath-takers gone? To shower stalls with fancy-head sprayers, I suppose. Not me. I am a bath girl. If nothing else, it’s the site of my continuing education. If I’m to get any book reading done, it’s in the tub; same goes for magazine flipping, and sometimes (though harder) copyediting and highlighting Bible-study lessons.
I don’t give a hoot for showers. They are only necessary evils if one is in a great hurry or has a plastic-covered cast.
My affinity for this evening ritual began as a child on the farm. We had crummy well water and only a fine stream of it, at that. I pulled the evening shift for cleanliness and good thing, because there wasn’t time enough mornings before school to wait on the tub to fill.
Well-established in my habit, I continued it as an adult and today, the evening isn’t complete until I’ve bathed and only then donned jammies, ready for bed or at least, getting cozy.
I especially relish winter baths. If I’m cold, which is most of the time in the winter, and usually in the fall and spring too, I can hardly wait to fill the tub with hot water and squirt in what soon becomes scented froth.
Then I read.
It’s a daily delight.
I was just thinking about this as I'm in the middle of reading a most delightful novel. It’s called The Writing Class, by Jincy Willett. It’s funny and entertaining; creative and well-written. I guess I should put my review on Amazon.
It’s from the library and yes, I could tell this book by its cover, which also happens to be charming.
By the way, what are you reading these days? Where do you do your reading and thinking and highlighting? Any tub dwellers out there? The only one I know is my friend Darnella. Darnella and I are avid bath girls. We have that in common and it’s a lot because there just don’t seem to be so many of us out there.
If there were, surely there would be more than a lone jug of cheap bubble bath on the shelf. I take that back. There was a bottle of children’s bubble bath next to the one I bought. I shouldn’t take that lightly. The day may come when Mr. Bubble is the last man standing on the bottom row. And then, I’ll have to take him home.