When You Can’t Watch Over Your Shoulder

A shower curtain printed with yellow rubber ducks hangs on a metal rod in a tiled shower stall.I held back the plastic curtain to step out of the shower and a memory popped into my head. My damp feet sank into the cotton mat and I wiggled my toes with joy in the absorbent material. As expected, I stood on dry land.

I considered the memory. Maybe it happened because it was near the end of the week. I had not slept on a comfy mattress that week. I slept instead on a terrible mattress at the rental home. Perhaps I was slightly sleep deprived and making bad choices. Who’s to know.

The moment, ok. At the rental house that afternoon, I moved aside the frosted glass door and stepped into the dry stall while wearing my swim suit. I peeled away the material so as not to storm the entire white bathroom with sand. I thought I had shut the glass door behind me, but when I double checked, the panel with the inside handle sat along the far side track. So, I pulled it shut to keep the sand and water inside the white rectangle. Then, I hung my suit on the shower head and turned on the faucet.

Warm water hit my skin and steam rose in swirls around my face. Sometimes a nice shower after a sunny day at the beach feels like a luxury. Actually, a shower kinda always feels like a luxury.

I moved around to shampoo my hair with a citrusy cleanser and the water hit the back of my legs. I winced. Must’ve received too many UV rays. It was official. That spray sunscreen is off the beach list. Back to old reliable, the labor intensive lotion.

A few minutes later I stopped the water and wrung out my hair. Layers of low vision and frosted glass and steam shrouded everything I saw. I inhaled one last breath of humid air before I brushed aside the glass doors to step onto the mat. Wait. The glass doors, plural? I squinted at the metal track and backed into the stall to reach towards the far side’s frosted barrier. Like a kid shooting hoops who’s cut first from tryouts, my reach got nothing but air. Oops.

I held my breath and stepped onto the cotton bath mat. Okay, it wasn’t saturated with water. I edged to the area next to the toilet, ready to slip and slide on the now flooded bathroom floor. There goes the security deposit. My toes inched out. And inched out. And felt…cold tile.

I exhaled and marveled at the chance of taking a shower with one half of the stall open, yet no water collecting outside. I shrugged and gathered up my things; I don’t tax my brain on vacation. From now on, a dry bath mat will be a touch of happiness.

What is making you happy this week? Did something surprise you today? Tell me about it.

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6 Comments Add yours

  1. Casee says:

    I managed to get mattress covers on a twin bed and box spring by myself without ripping either! I feel like a champion. 😃

    1. Nicely done, Casee. The terriers think it’s playtime when beds are made around here. I can only imagine how they would perk up at matress covering!

  2. Dry, fluffy towels are the best. My feel good moment of the week was seeing next door’s cat making his way down the lawn. He is very annoying but he has been away on holiday for three weeks and I realise missed him!

    1. He is getting back into his routine now that he returned. On his terms of course!

  3. Almost every time I get into the shower I relish the moment. There was a time in the not so distant past when I truly realized what a luxury showers were. I along with my then 3 small boys found ourselves in a situation where we had to share just about everything with other women/children in a shelter for abused women. While it was a tough time we were still able to laugh and enjoy the moments but I really missed taking a leisurely shower because in keeping with house rules everyone had a 5 minute limit. Even though it’s been 20+ years every day I get in the shower I’m just so very thankful and this makes me happy. Sometimes it really is the little things. 🙂

    1. Thanks for sharing the difficult yet beautiful memory Steph. It’s a true reminder to enjoy as you said the small moments.

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