Rub-a-dub-dub

It isn't often that I really miss "land" things.  But every once in a while, I'd like to have a bath.  Unlike the kids, I can't fit in a five-gallon bucket.

I once made the mistake of musing aloud that I would like to take a bath.  Erik, fixer of all problems, immediately started offering solutions.

"Go swimming," he said.
"I said I'd like a bath, not a swim."
"What's the difference?"
"A swim is for looking at fish and giving the kids rides and moving around a lot," I said.  "A bath is for lying in warm water and reading a book.  Possibly with the addition of a lovely beverage."
"You can read in the cockpit."
"Then I wouldn't be in the water, would I?"
Erik gave me a look I know well.  It is Husband Look #5: Are We Still Talking About This?  I Thought I Solved Your Problem Eight Minutes Ago.  He put down his socket driver and sighed.  "Do you need me to build you a bathtub?  I can build you a bathtub.  You can put it on the back deck, and haul up water in a bucket.  It'll be a pain, but I can do it."
"Oh for crying out loud!" I threw my hands in the air.  "I am not asking you to build me a ruddy bathtub!  All I said was it would be nice to soak in a bath once in a while!"
"Why'd you bring it up then?" Erik muttered as he wandered off to find a problem that actually wanted to be solved.

I am not alone in this desire.  Although some people I won't mention think a bathtub is for illness-related use only, the kids understand.

The moment we arrived at our little apartment in Adelaide, the girls zoomed away to explore the space.  "There's a sofa!"  "I want this bed!"  "A closet!"
"A bathtub!" called Stylish.
"Where?" shrieked Indy.  "Mom, I want a bath."  Before I knew it, she had stripped down and was hopping from one foot to another in anticipation.  It didn't matter that the tub was hardly bigger than the five-gallon pail.  Warm water coming out of a pipe into a shiny white receptacle is exciting, no matter what the size.

And bath time didn't get any less popular.  Sometimes she would beg for up to five baths a day.  I can't bring myself to waste that much water - not even when it is coming out of a magic pipe instead of a tank below my feet - so Indy quickly learned that the first bath was the warmest, because that water had to last her all day.  Even Stylish got into the act, although she is too big to wash Barbie's hair anymore.

Time after time, the bath was occupied.  Finally, my moment came - the girls were happily watching a movie.  I snuck into the bathroom, ran the water, and opened my book.

Splash!

"Hi, Mom," said Indy. "Let's have a bath!"

Oh, well.  I could probably try getting up in the middle of the night.