While on vacation, I discovered that I am a bather.
Our hotel had a beautiful bath tub. Not a jacuzzi tub, a real tub, made for one person, with the sole purpose of bathing. It was slightly longer than a standard tub, but was deep enough that when full, I was completely submerged. Knees and boobs. And then, to complete this perfect tub, the back was sloped for lounging, and the sides had perfect shelves such that my elbows rested perfectly on them while I read a magazine. I took a bath there at least every second day, with water so hot that I could barely stand it. (I know it's super bad for your skin, but I love the way it feels!)
Now, I am back home. And I miss bathing.
I hate my tiny apartment tub with its twelve inches of water and sharp porcelain edges. I hate trying to balance between soaking my legs and my torso. I've tried a couple of times since we've been home, but it's just not enjoyable. No matter how hot the water is, I can never fully warm up and relax.
Damn those Cubans with their full-bodied cigars, minty drinks and enjoyable bath tubs.