Hot Bath

So I had the chance to go out into the cold tonight, but instead decided to take a hot bath. I have thought about buying a hot tub to put on the porch, and still haven't decided not to, but for now the bathtub has to do. When I was a girl I took baths in an antique claw foot porcelain tub. My father made a tray that fit across the width of it, and I kept all my toys there. I remember having some sort of soap that I could draw with. I would soak until the water was cold and my fingers were shriveled. I have a better system now. I turn on a space heater and shut the bathroom door and get the room toasty warm, so the bath water stays warm for a long time. Long enough to read a magazine all the way through, and relax with the smell of lavender bath salts. Long enough to feel the warmth and softness seep deep into my soul. I lay back and remember being a child, alone in the tub, singing silly songs, playing slip and slide while the water drained out. Some memories are so vivid, when I realize they are 50 years old I am amazed. Like rolling pennies, 50 seems so many, hard to count and stack into a paper sleeve. I am glad I can choose to stay home and take a bath, instead of going into the cold. That is one of the fine benefits of adulthood.