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Taking A Bath Could Save Your Life
A few things I learned about stewing in my own juices.
Over the course of my recent adventures in doctor land, I’ve had to take a lot of baths.
A lot of baths.
So, so many baths.
I don’t even like taking a bath. At least, I didn’t, but that was before the Colonoscapades came to town.
For one thing, bath water is always the wrong temperature. You’re either waiting for the water to cool down or hitting the tap to warm it up.
It’s the liquid equivalent of a banana — it’s only perfect for five minutes.
And then there’s soap. If you lather up while you’re sitting there on your dimply, puckered butt, you end up stewing in a sort of dirty human soup.
Better to just lie down in clear water.
Except, of course, that you can’t lie down, because every tub in America is six inches too short. It doesn’t matter how tall you are, the tub is too short.
Unless you’re a child, and as usual, youth and shortness are wasted on the young and short.
And then there’s the problem of getting out. There’s a reason why the bathroom is…
