What if your bathtub could talk?
So, I’m just standing here on four legs and Bobby, who hates baths, comes in. He doesn't turn me on.
He'd like to throw me out with the bathwater? I’ve been with this family for generations.
At five years of age, I couldn't ask him to go soak himself. I decided to let him get into his own hot water without my help. He starts yelling about me being colder than an iceberg.
In comes teenage Kitty demanding to know what’s going on. I was so proud of her standing up for me like that. She’s the mirror image of her grandmother when she was young. If you don’t believe me just ask the bathroom mirror itself.
She started feeling flushed. I could tell by the look on her face. She’d probably come in to do her toilet. That’s a female term for prettying herself up. It’s not what you were thinking. I hate sharing this room with that stinky old thing. Everything it does is full of crap if you ask me.
I do hold a special place here. I'm not your usual stuck in the mud. No one can claim they clean up like me. The kitchen appliances will tell you that may be food for thought worth toasting, the crumbs.
The family does hang out there a lot, feeding their faces with idle conversation. When they want to look their best I’m the place they come. Take young Matthew going out for his first job interview. What did he do? He groomed himself here as if he already were hired.
You’d be surprised what I hear. Master Thomas sometimes gets steamed and really wants to make waves. “It’s no soap.” He yells as if he’s telling someone off who isn’t even there. Like to see him try like that when someone is.
Mistress Beauty, that’s not her real name, but everyone calls her that, is the one who likes me the best. She’ll take so long relaxing with me that time itself gets lost.
“Go shower yourself downstairs.” She sings out amongst the scented, lit candles, rose petals, and warmed up milk. My she can pour it on when she wants to relax. I'm her favorite hideaway.
I run a little hot and cold with grandpa Stokes. He near drowned himself falling asleep dreaming of younger days. That old fart runs rings around me with the dirt he has. Some are dug up secrets no-one else thinks he even knows about. I wish he wasn’t so eager to deposit them with me. He's not exactly a flower garden but he tries.
The maid collects that sort of thing for some reason. I’ve taken a shine with her for doing that chore. I’m not into sharing dirt with anyone but I do with her. It is too draining if you ask me.
I do run on. I’ll put a plug in it. You got to go? Bye now.