Tonight I took a bath - a soaking hot bath complete with bubbles and a book.
A nice hot soak in the tub – which was quite relaxing until Socks, the cat, fell in the tub. Now Socks – he is a story! He is our ancient yellow striped cat who, up until about 6 months ago, resided mainly on the second floor of our house. When we first adopted him as a kitten (he was the offspring of Princess and Scratchy), he roamed the house. He loved us all. Until the day that my husband was recruited to take him to the vet to be neutered. I knew when I returned home that day, that something serious had gone down. Doors were open, trash can overturned, furniture knocked skewwhiff . . . . but no sign of Socks or my husband. Turns out, Socks didn’t care for the cat carrier and led Ike on a merry chase through the house. Needless-to-say, Ike won and Socks was neutered. From that point on, Socks would have nothing – and I mean nothing – to do with Ike. If Ike walked in a room, Socks took off. And then one day, years later, Socks snuck out of the house and disappeared for three days. When he returned, he was in love with Ike. Socks would jump on his lap, rub up against his legs, follow him around like a heartsick crush. It was nauseating. Over time the love affair ended and Socks decided his home would be on the second floor. He lived up there for years not returning to the first floor until the siren song of a mouse lured him down. But I digress......With my oldest child turning 33 this year and my youngest only 16, I can probably count on one hand the number of baths I've taken in the past couple of decades. So I enjoyed the luxury of being able to soak in the tub and may do it again - without the cat!