Tub Thumping

I wanted to wait till I survived my pap smear today before I blogged. You never know what funny things can happen while in stirrups. However, I am sad to report that the exam went off without a hitch. No problems, no issues, no French kissing like when I was at the dentist… nothing funny to turn into a great story.

Which means that I shall have to report about last night’s bath time. And YES, this has everything to do with dieting.

I am a bath lover. I take at least 3 baths a week, and enjoy soaking for as long as I can possibly get away with. I also have been known to multitask while in the tub. I have eaten dinner, read books, played cards, and even done needlepoint while enjoying a hot soak. And Matt has walked into the bathroom more than once and found me out cold- napping. I love taking baths!

Yesterday, after starting fresh on my low carb diet, I kinda overdid it on the bacon. I admit it. I have mentioned my torrid love affair with bacon numerous times on the blog, and yesterday it was like I was given the keys to pork city. I had more bacon than one person should ever consume. (Ok, not that much, but going from none to lots was a big change for me.) My stomach, used to high fiber veggies 24-7 and fruit, was ill prepared to handle the switch to high fat/low carb foods. Add to that the fact I was coffee free, which is a miracle in itself. I had a major headache.

And I started feeling nauseous.

So I decided that I needed to take a bath and soak. That usually curbs my gurgly tummy.

I got the water as hot as I could stand it, and laid down. There is something about a hot bath that relaxes me. And it relaxed the gas that was building up in my intestines. So I let it rip.

Of course, I giggled. Because you can’t let a huge fart in the bathtub without snickering. It’s impossible.

I laid in the tub and enjoyed the calm. I also love putting my head under the water so my ears are submerged. With 4 other people in the house, 3 of them being kids, it provides some well deserved sound proofing.

Pretty soon, I heard the familiar statement that always happens while I am in the tub.

“Mom, I have to poo.”

The kids never have to poop until I am a sitting duck in the tub. And while shower curtains are fantastic for privacy, they do little to stop the toxic humid smells that emerge from the backside of the kids.

So sitting in the tub, hidden behind the curtain, I decided since one kid (who shall remain nameless) was dropping a bomb on me, I had eaten enough meat that day to fight back. So I did my best to work up a good stinker and pushed.

And it was quite a loud one too. Unfortunately, noise was not the only thing this fart produced.

So there I am, sitting in the water, with a not so solid floater of my own doing popping up to the surface. Suddenly, the situation was not as funny as I thought it would be.

Jumping up as fast as I could, I stood in the water. Then I realized I should have gotten up slowly, because the floater became floaterS and now the water was moving around. I was surrounded.

I started doing a not so elegant ballet, something akin to Swamp Lake… stepping over this one, moving away from that one- trapped because nameless child was still pooing joyfully on the toilet. There was singing from the other side of the curtain, people. Nameless child was taking their sweet time.

“Honey, Mama needs to get out of the tub. Do you think you could hand me the towel?”

“There’s not a towel in here.”

“Well, where is it?”

“(Other nameless child) took it into the living room to clean up spilled milk.”

DANG.

“Ok, well can you hurry please? And then go tell Daddy I need him to bring me a towel.”

“Kay.”

I had no choice but to stand there, dodging my own brown bullets, waiting for nameless child to finish. Pretty soon they finished up, and went into the living room. I assumed to get Dad or a towel. I assumed wrong.

So I decided I could do some of the yucky work while waiting for the towel. I took a cup and started playing “Catch the floater.” This was not a game I enjoyed however, because the second I was close to catching one, the more it would break apart. Finally, Matt brought in a towel, which I made sure was handed through the curtain, and I got out and dried off.

Then I decided the best course of action was to get the fish net we used for the possibly alive but definitely dead fish. And I started swishing the water again. This method did much better, but I still had to deal with emptying the net into the toilet.

Finally I got it as good as it was going to get, and let the water out. Then I took Clorox wipes and wiped down the tub. Then I grabbed antibacterial soap and scrubbed myself down in the shower. Which was cold, as I had used all the hot water enjoying my bath. Fantastic.

Today, the tummy is doing better, but I still am taking the sage advice of my facebook buddy Marilyn.

“Never trust a fart.”