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  1. “Boys and girls, today’s verb is bathe. Can everybody say bathe? No, not babe. It’s bathe! Hear that long ‘A’ sound? That’s right- ‘A’ says its name. It’s athe! Very good!

    Now what words rhyme with bathe? Dave? Steve? Maeve? Stave! What an excellent vocabulary word!!

    Now let’s conjugate bathe. Oh, this is so much fun!!

    I bathe. He she it bathes. We they bathe. Wonderful work!

    Now let’s do it in the future tense! I will bathe.they will bathe. He she it will bathe w
    We will bathe and they will bathe.

    Woo who! Look at you guys!

    No how about conjugating in the past tense? I bathed. You bathed. He she it bathed. Do you hear the..?.”

    At that point Cicero began singing his favorite tune from Puccini, and the crowd roared.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. …and I wanted to bathe. There were countless reasons why I would enjoy a bath. Love of hot, warm water. The release of tension and the relieving of pain in my neck. The little bit of crust on my eyelid from the antibiotic ointment. The way I would simply feel more awake after thirty minutes spent in the tub….and because I’m listening to some sultry, bluesy, jazz right now, I’m also thinking off tub tricks. Love tub tricks.

    But the truth is I have just become inexplicably aware of exactly what is missing from my life. There is only one thing missing and it isn’t warm water or tub tricks (get that all the time). Here it is:

    I need my own little pigs. That’s it. Just need pigs. 🙂

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  3. One of my earliest memories is taking a shit in the bathtub when I was in it with my brother. My brother held the turd up to my dad and said, “look what Craven did.”
    “GET THE REST OUT!” My father yelled.
    That’s about the end of it. I have earlier memories, like sticking my finger in a socket and getting shocked. When I went to tell my mom about it she didn’t turn from the TV and said, “I always told you not to do that.”
    I question the legitimacy of the memory because my mom was the other kind of mother most of the time, overly concerned and overbearing. Nonetheless, that’s the memory I have.
    Another really early memory is of a dream where I was in love with a girl and had to move away. I was really sad and repeatedly said her name as I freeze-framed and credits rolled up the dreamscape. Then I woke up sad.
    “GET THE REST OUT!” My older brother backs me up on that one.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Perhaps an “r” had fallen off the end, and it was really “Bather” in full. Or something longer and more aristocratic, like “Bathenshire”, or “Bathelithk”… just a little lisp joke… okay never mind. It was all really decrepit and rundown – the stone letters all broken apart and crumbling away like dried bark off a withered stump. Despite it’s time being past, the whole, ancient structure loomed overhead nonetheless, blotting out half the sky and casting a cold, monolithic shadow over the whole town square.

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  5. This act, to bathe, almost inevitably draws upon the warmth you feel in your belly when an act of service is performed for one who is loved dearly. I never think of the phrase “to bathe” and see myself routinely, thoughtlessly rinsing suds out of my butchered hair, into my shut eyes, and off of my body. No one is ever truly present in the shower. To bathe is an action so thoughtful and intimate, it can only occur with someone there to demand your presence. You can bathe a child. You can bathe a lover. You can bathe your elders. Anything else seems, well, obligatory, and therefore insignificant.

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