January 29, 2008

Taking A Bath


I am going to tell the story of my bath last night. This is something I definitely should have foregone, but like everyone else I have much better hindsight than foresight.
First, light the candles. Then shake out the match, drop into trash. Then step into the tub and manage to knock both towel and book, Two Captives of Big Bear, into the drink.

Quick, scroop them out. Wring out the towel, dry off the book best I can with the
small towel.

Alright, try it again. This time I made sure to get my foot up and over the book, which I will read anyway, soggy or not. I slither down into the piping hot water, all cozy and bubbly. . .
yikes! The trash can is on fire!!!!

I don't recall getting out of the tub; I was just out.


The garbage can is shooting flames a foot high out the top. But where to grab? Just grab. Now what?
Turn on sink tap and shove white plastic garbage can under. Flames flicker, hiss, water sizzles, black globs of melted plastic bubble down into the sink, over my fingers. Eeegads, that burns. Drop the trash can. Can't get the melted plastic peeled off my skin. Cold water. Now gag on the smoke everywhere.

Yank open the door, set trash can outside, start trying to pick up all the black melted blobs all over the floor with toilet paper.
But guess what? A spot doesn't want to come up. I've melted the linoleum and it looks like a was sitting on the pot, reading the news, and dropped my cigar.
So there I am, stark naked, dripping wet, shivering cold, soooo aggravated with myself at ruining my floor, when what to my astonished, disgusted ears do I hear? The smoke alarms going off! Not one, not two, but three!

I jump up, open the door, grab the trash can, bring it back in, dump the wet towel on top, alarms beeping so piercingly, achingly, loud I get an instant headache. But can I run out, find a chair, climb up, and start pulling batteries out of the ceiling? No! Because I'm still naked, dripping, and have no blinds on most of my windows. . .
I said out loud, "Well, now, this is a real fine how-do-you-do," shut the bathroom door, pulled down my bathrobe, but was just wiggling into it when the first alarm quit. I paused, one arm in, one arm out. The second one quit. I waited. Third one quit.

You know what? Back in the tub, heart hammering, I did not experience the relaxation I had envisioned.


But today at work I sure got a lot of laughs...though I noticed no one volunteered to help me replace my linoleum.

My youngest, it turns out, is laid up with a bad back. At lunch I dashed into Walgreens and got him a heating pad and ice, drove through falling snow to his condo and got him all fixed up. "Can you help me replace my linoleum?" I asked. "I mean, when your back is better?"

"Just buy a new trash can, Mumsy, and put that over your burnt hole." And for that I endured a third Ceasarian section? What a jip.

9 comments:

  1. Anonymous4:45 PM

    ok i am feeling guilty now because i am sitting here hoping i am laughing "with you"

    that definitely beats my concussion while running out of the shower to catch the 'let's eat lunch' phone call story

    loved your christmas card - you are definitely the master of the pen tool

    Jeanne

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous7:49 PM

    How “I Love Lucy” of you. I think I saw this in episode number 47.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous7:57 PM

    No pictures??????????

    ReplyDelete
  4. Anonymous8:06 PM

    Dirty Grace Bonney is my pirate name - what fun..

    ReplyDelete
  5. You should keep the hole... you know, for the memories? ;)Sort of like the paint all over my brand new carpet!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Anonymous8:05 AM

    Hallooo

    Ah, we've had similar baths, me lassie. Funny story. Remind me to tell you about my neighbor's bath (30 yrs. ago). It was a classic.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Katie, Katie, Katie...

    Paint all over your carpet, spread by mischievious monkeys in a house you intend to live in for a long time is one thing. Those silly little monkeys, what will they do next... But a burnt hole in the linoleum? Right by the toilet? Where fecal bacteria can build mansions and art museums? As ugly as sin and memory of my own stupidity?

    I know, let's let Nathan and Jamie paint my bathroom floor and all will be well!!!

    (Can you paint linoleum???)

    Mum

    ReplyDelete
  8. Anonymous6:10 PM

    That's hilarious! I thought you got blinds for Christmas...maybe you need some more next year!

    :)Heather

    ReplyDelete
  9. Anonymous6:21 PM

    My pirate name is totally lame!

    Dread Pirate Flint

    Like the famous Dread Pirate Roberts, you have a keen head for how to make a profit. Like the rock flint, you're hard and sharp. But, also like flint, you're easily chipped, and sparky. Arr!

    :)Heather

    ReplyDelete

If you'd like to comment, I'd love to hear from you.