Bath Time: Swoon 36
When I was young I loved bath time. We had a huge tub, probably from the 40s, before water conservation was even a thought. At some point glass walls and a sliding door were added, creating an enclosure. We would fill the tub to the brim, and close the door, creating a tank. This gave us the ability to splash, “swim”, and play for hours on end. My brother and I were pretty small kids, we could circle the tub like sharks in an aquarium, we would play tub basketball…shooting those grocery store bright rubber balls over the top, our mom collecting them and shooting them back in the tank. It was our own indoor pool. After tubs my mom would cuddle and dry us in huge towels, then curl my hair with rags and I would sit on their bed with the plastic cap hairdryer (remember, like a shower cap that would blow up with hot air) watching TV. Glorious.
When joint tubs were no longer age appropriate, and parental supervision no longer welcomed, I had a different set up. The clothing hamper went next to the tub, the TV from my parents bedroom on the hamper, the TV cord stretched to the outlet next to the sink. I want to make sure you are envisioning this… a TV from 1978 (picture their size and width), balanced on a clothing hamper, next to a full tub of water, with the electric cord extended to the limit and plugged in at the sink. I was a GenX kid. It is a miracle any of us survived. Sitting in the tub, soaking in baking soda and warm water (we were never allowed bubble bath, my mom said it was bad for lady parts), enjoying Brady Bunch reruns, my body becoming wrinkled and pruned…just chilling. Bliss.
Happily, both of my college off campus apartments had claw foot tubs, and both were used often. After college my apartment in New York was in Peter Cooper Village. Peter Cooper was built after WWII for returning vets… the tubs were old style big and the water pressure in the showers was like nothing in the world, spectacular. My kids got to experience “pool” tubs like I did. They became a way to calm them, entertain them, an escape from apartment life. One of the major drawbacks of moving to the suburbs was the tiny tub in our new home. No long soaks, no relaxing after a long day, at 5 feet even I was too big. Sigh, the end of a good tub run.
After 20 years of picking hotels based on their bathtub size, I now have a soaker in my home. A deep and delicious tub. On goes the mellow music, throw in some salts and bubbles, turn off the lights, and I finally relax. Dreaming I am in a place where going outside is safe, where seeing my loved ones is normal… where I can hug my son. Swoon.
I get out of the tub, refreshed but back in this crazy new reality. FaceTime will have to do for now. Stay safe all.
Swooning 