I seem to be in a bit of a trend of naming blog posts after businesses I never use. Next week: Cricklewood! (Is that still a thing?)
Okay, let’s get down to brass tacks: I hate baths. Sure, they look all relaxing and maybe even a little SEXY in movies and on the TV, but let’s get real: they are horrible, right?
I MIGHT take a bath once or twice a year, and always under questionable circumstances, and never of my own volition. I’m a shower man, through and through. Showers are great: you get in there, you’re instantly wet and warm, you lather up, you do what you need to do, you rinse off, and you’re out. Although my wife complains that I take long and hot ones, I’m PRETTY SURE I average under 5 minutes, and you have to make it hot, right? That’s what kills the germs.
My wife, on the other hand, is one of those weirdos who actually pretends to like taking baths. I remember when we were looking at houses, and she said “Well this place is out.” and I asked her why, it seemed like a nice place in an okay neighbourhood.
I didn’t even think to check, but she was right. The bathroom only had a shower stall. I sort of agreed with her then, I mean you should have the ability to have a bath, even if you never take one, right? It’s the same reason why we have a spaghetti squash in our basement. We’re never gonna cook the fuckin’ thing, but you gotta have one, right? In fact, one time, (I know I’m digressing), I actually threw the spaghetti squash out because contrary to popular belief, those things don’t last forever, and the last thing you want in your house is a randy over-ripe spaghetti squash, let me tell you, and you know what happened? Two days later, there was a new one down there! My wife replaced it! I don’t think she’s even had one herself, but I know she likes spaghetti, which is maybe why she mistakenly thinks she’d like a spaghetti squash for supper. Hey, I drink water every day, but you don’t see me hording watermelons, do you?
So anyway, back to the bath situation. I don’t have them.
Except now I do.
All the time.
Let me explain: a few weeks ago, we had part of our bathroom ceiling replaced. It was water-damaged a few years ago when we had a leaky roof. We’ve long since replaced the roof, but we didn’t bother about the ceiling until now. Our drywaller is great, but you know that saying about if you’re a hammer, everything out there is a nail? Well I guess you can also say, “When you are a drywaller, everything out there is a crack or a hole that needs filling”. Let’s just let that lay, okay? So not only did he do a great job on our ceiling, he also took it upon himself to slap plaster on every little imperfection on the walls too. I mean, you can’t really blame him, right? I mean, you’ve got this bucket of plaster and a trowel, so why wouldn’t you just slap it everywhere? I imagine the walls in his house must look like a cloudy day.
So the bottom line was that not only did I need to paint the ceiling, but most of the walls too, and I did WITHOUT COMPLAINT.
I was just finishing up, when my wife said, “Well, let’s give this paint some time to cure. Last time we showered too soon and it bubbled”, which was true, it did.
“Sounds good. What are you thinking, a day or two?”
“No, actually, they recommend a couple of weeks at least.” Wot. Who are these “they”? I bet they are members of the bath lover’s association of Rupertsland or something, not associated with the painting industry at all.
“Plus, baths are better for you.”
I’m not sure from where she got this last bit of information, but I wasn’t about to argue. No one wants their paint job to bubble, and what the heck, maybe it’ll be alright.
Well, it wasn’t.
If I know one thing about the fanbase, I know that you prefer showers to baths, so I know I’m preaching to the choir here a little bit, but bear with.
First of all, you have to plan ahead. With a shower, you turn it on, and it’s pretty much ready to go in about 10 seconds. Baths take much longer. You’ve got to start running the water for a good ten minutes before you can get in there. You also have to be really careful with the temperature. Not too hot (I made the mistake of running 100% hot water and it never really did cool down enough for me to get into it. I kind of squatted and splashed, scorching my nethers in the process). But if you run it too cold, you’ll end up shivering and giving yourself the chills. This happened to me more than the scorching way, I scorched only the once and you don’t make that mistake twice.
Secondly, I’m really too tall for a conventional bath. I can’t ever stretch out fully in it. Either my knees are way up in the air, or my mid-chest, shoulders and everything above is out of the water, further hastening “the chill and chattering”. So so much for “a good soak” as my wife calls it.
I splash around in there and try to get everything washed, but it’s futile. I lather up areas that are still dry, I get shampoo in my hair but then have a dickens of a time getting the shampoo out again. One time I tried to use a cup to rinse my hair, but the water came down the front of me and somehow managed to go up my nose, creating an almost neti-pot effect. You can DIE from that, people!
And really, when you think of it, when you take a bath, you’re really just creating an ass broth, right? I mean, that’s what it is. A broth made from your ass. That same ass-water is going over your head, in your hair, really every part of your body. How can that be better than a shower, where the water comes out nice and warm and clean at the top, hits your face and head, then trickles down the way the Lord intended, to clean everything else, quietly and efficiently leaving by the drain at your feet?
Apparently, I make funny noises when I take a bath. Aside from the excessive splashing around, I supposedly make moaning and groaning noises. So much so that I normally draw a crowd. Our daughter comes in to “watch Daddy being silly” and my wife comes in to tell me I’m doing it all wrong. NO ONE EVER CAME IN WHEN I WAS HAVING A SHOWER, DAMN IT! I can shower like a champ. In fact, if you wanted to enter me into a showering competition, I’d probably medal. Just sayin’.
This past weekend was our tenth wedding anniversary and for fun we spent a night in the same hotel where we spent our wedding night. I AM NOT EVEN JOKING when I say the best part of that weekend was being able to have a nice hot shower, alone, uninterrupted. (The brunch was a close second).
Those walls have to be cured by now, right? It’s been about 3 weeks. How much longer? Even the damn garden hose, cold as its water surely is, was looking kind of attractive this morning as I made my way out to the car. I hope it won’t come to that. What would the neighbours think?