Monday, February 7, 2011

Baths

This is very personal pet peeve.  And I apologize in advance to all of you who love and savor the bath.  This includes my husband, who is truly the captain, the duke, no - the Emperor of the Bath.  He loves a good bath and you can't keep him away from the tub during winter.  I, on the other hand, can not stand a hot bath (or a cold one for that matter, I'm sure.)  I love water and will swim in just about anything (pool, lake, pond, ocean, etc.)  But you really can't swim in a bath tub, so I guess that is besides the point.
The point is this - baths are gross.  You supposedly report to the bathroom to get clean, and yet, in a bath you sit in a cooling puddle of whatever filth has just run off of your body.  Nothing is running down the drain.  You are marinating in it.  Additionally, there is no amount of bubbles that can cover up the buffet of sights before you.  This is worse than any mirror.  You simply have to sit (most often an unflattering body position for those outside of Kate Moss) and stare at yourself from the neck down.  Any fat roll, any odd shaped freckle, any ingrown toenail - it is all somehow magnified by the confines of the bathtub.  And, still, people love it.  I don't get it.  Give me a shower any day - the grime slips down the drain and there is a complete absence of any one-on-one moments with my imperfections.   

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