Today, I had my first shower in about a year.
Before everyone reaches for their nose-peg, I will say that was because I am a confirmed bath-taker. To me, it’s a bit like the cats or dogs debate – dogs make you feel fuzzy and warm inside, cats leave you cold. Just like a shower.
If someone stripped me naked, poured water all over me and made me stand in a cold tiled room, I’d sue them for assault but, apparently, it’s okay if it’s a shower.
So, I’m standing there, one half under scalding hot water, one half shivering and steaming, and it occurred to me this is how it works; burn the front, freeze the back, and the body is fooled into thinking it’s somewhere in the middle, temperature-wise.
But it’s not!
So, I turn around and put my back under the burn and my front begins to freeze. Somewhere to hang my towel, at least.
I then made the big mistake of washing my hair.
My not-so-long locks seemed to take about an hour to absorb the falling water during which time MY WHOLE BODY froze!
It is inhumane. When we leave the EU, I think we should ban showers as one of those daft European predilections we are happy to leave behind – along with all the European nations’ national liqueurs (pastis, anyone? No, thought not) and the sun-dried tomato.
The reason I had a shower, and I’ll admit they’ve got me on this one, was because time was short. No time to run a bath and luxuriate in its warmth, feeling cosseted and cared for like a love affair with the man of your dreams. No, like a quick fumble with a married man, I didn’t have much time and was left feeling damp, and unfulfilled.
A mistake I won’t be making for a long time to come.