
I remember she would set out the pan with it's water and a wash rag, that's country speak for washcloth, and tell us to wash off. She called it a "horse bath", that's what it sounded like to my young ears. I could never figure out why a horse would be washed like that. Seems like not enough water for such a large animal. Okay, so maybe she said "whore's bath" and either I misunderstood because my sweet mama would never say anything vulgar or because I was sheltered and really just had never heard that word before. Anyway, you didn't submerse any body parts. You start high, then go low, then a quick swipe where the two meet, a "horse bath". I'm ashamed to tell you how long it took me to figure out what she really said but I was mom myself by that time and a horse bath sounds much nicer. Weirder, but nicer.
Memories come at the oddest of places this particular one came tumbling out this week after a brief and unexpected hospital stay. The nurses came and went the iv remained attached and there was no time to take a shower without a little help. Because of this I spent four days taking my special baths. I know I never got to stinking, I had my Bath and Body Works Japanese Cherry Blossom, shower gel, lotion and spray and everyone who came in the room commented on how nice it smelled there. Come to think of it they said the room smelled good, not me. We'll pretend I smelled as fresh as a daisy too.
After four long days and three sleepless nights (sounds like an anti-vacation promo), I was discharged and the very first thing I did was not hug my husband or kids, it was to take a long lovely hot shower. I have a feeling they are thankful I did first things first.
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