If cleanliness really is next to Godliness then I am afraid my contact with the Almighty is waning fast.
You see I am a firm aficionado of The Bath. In any list of favourite things I always list lolling in the bath right there at the top (even higher than chocolate and wine, though I can of course manage those in the bath – I am multi talented that way). Lurking in the shower holds no attraction for me, maybe it’s all the rain we get in Scotland, but voluntarily standing there and getting wet (even with hot water) just doesn’t do it for me. So you can see I might have a bit of a predicament on my hands (or feet) just now with all this packaging on my foot.
I decided yesterday that I was just going to have to bite the bullet and face the stairs in order to get to the blessed bath. Much planning and plotting went into this mission – well there ain’t much else to do on the sofa but plan and plot so I am becoming a bit of an expert – and by 6pm I was ready for action.
The action part took 20 minutes to get up the damn stairs as narrow steep cottage stairs with no handrail aren’t really the first choice for the novice climber. Once up there in the lofty environs of upstairs I became thoroughly over-excited by this big new world. Just look, a bed (oh think of the cosy comfort), clothes other than PJs, just different stuff from the living room.
Ah but the bathroom, now there was my Shangrila. I hopped in there on my trusty crutches and ran a deep and fragrant bubble bath. Set out a book, shampoo and conditioner, towel and soap, I even wrapped the taps in a towel as it is my right foot that’s wonky so would have to be in bath the wrong way round if you see what I mean (oh you can tell I put a lot of thought into this cunning plan) – I was ready for anything. Now I just had to get into the damn thing.
Well dear reader if you have ever watched those wildlife films where David Attenborough (or some other dulcet toned presenter) natters on as a seal lumbers off a floating iceberg and into deep water with no grace whatsoever you will have some idea of how I spent the next few minutes. There was much hauling and humphing, a bit of wriggling and swearing, but joy of joys, at last there was splashing and I was in.
Did I morph into an endorphin filled dolphin and dodge and dive? Don’t be silly I was in the bath, but hey it’s the thought that counts. I lolled and loved every precious minute of it. The towel over the taps worked perfectly as a head rest and with all my requirements in easy reach I was able to accomplish the necessary bathing rituals in comfort. Only wished I’d been able to carry wine and chocolate into this sanctuary of delight and my joy would have been pretty much unbound.
Anyway you are getting that the splish splashy bathy bit was a big success. Now I just had to get out. Well actually I couldn’t. I went into terror mode at thought of slipping and crashing to the ground on the bad foot with the wires sticking out. All the surgeon’s dire warnings were echoing in my head and I lost my nerve completely. I tried pushing and pulling and then found myself whimpering pathetically, there was only one thing for it…..
“I d g y!” I yelled and my delightful daughter dragged herself dutifully from her laptop to see what was happening. “Don’t look but get me out of here” was my bleated request. As ever Saffy to my Edina she took over and got me out in a trice but fell about laughing in the process. Will I ever live this one down? I doubt it.
So a clean start to the week for me, but maybe a tad too adventurous for everyday, Cleanliness and Godliness will just have to hang on the back burner for a wee while, afterall life on the sofa is not exactly the height of socialising so nobody should really notice. Promise you won’t tell on me……