The Annual Bath
I used to take two baths a day. Once in the morning if I could fit it in, and once before bed with all the yummy smelling body stuffs, candle light, a glass of wine, and a good book. Now I'm lucky if I get one bath a day, and I share that bath with foam letters, cups, an egg beater, Shrek, four rubber duckies, Spongebob, Patrick, and of course one giggling toddler. It's not quite the same experience, and doesn't really serve the same purpose. So what feels like once a year I stick said giggling toddler in his high chair with play dough or breakfast and turn on Sesame Street which, unlike most other kids shows lasts for an hour, although there is no guarantee that the toddlers interest will be captured for that full hour. And even then despite the elaborate plan the bath is short and lacking most of the accoutrement's it used to have. Today I had my annual bath and still found that four rubber duckies of various colors and sizes had made it into the tub with me. Rayn just can't admit that sometimes a bath is better without ducks. Still I sank down into the burning hot water and let the water cover my ears so that all I could hear was the sound of rushing water, and then I let go of my life, my stress, my emotions, everything, and just floated in the tub for a minute. When I stepped from my hot bath not even ten minutes later I felt renewed. Sometimes that's all it takes, sometimes it takes the full experience with the door shut to the world and the hubby home to look after the toddler. I love my tub.