this post is likely to contain the words “penis” and “balls”. Continue at your own risk.
Bathtime has always been my favorite pastime. When I was little, I’d stay in the bath until I was pruney. I know so many people that are like, “ew, how can you just sit in your own filth?” and it’s like… I don’t get into the bath after mud wrestling. Sorry you’re so dirty you can’t get in the bath and enjoy it, but I’m relatively clean when I hop into a steaming hot bath full of bubbles and epsom salts! Especially now that I’m training for a half marathon (omg, haha so lame, but yeah, I’m doing it), I need a bath at the end of the day to soak my swollen and growing muscles. I watch Netflix in the bath, read magazines and sometimes I even text my friends – sorry y’all, sometimes I’m texting you from the tub. Maybe a nice visual, but also could be one that haunts you, so…. you’re welcome or I’m sorry. I recently moved upstairs to my parent’s old bedroom where the only tub in the house is, so now I take one Every. Night. I can’t go to be bed until I’ve had my bath. I just LOVE BATHS…. well, lovED baths until something that happened the other day.
Here’s a little back story before we jump full frontal into my story. My whole family loves baths! My dad could soak in the tub for hours. And frequently did when I was growing up. Lately, though, he typically is given a shower by Vicki with occasional assistance from me. At this point in the game, it’s not unusual or weird for me to see my dad’s naked, very old body. And while the shower is easier, my dad often refuses to get into it so sometimes it’s just easier for everyone if we haul Dad up the stairs and into the master bath tub. The other day, we did just that. Vicki shaved him and washed his hair. Then we left him alone to soak and get his mucles nice and relaxed… so relaxed in fact they become like wet noodles. Until this particular day, Vicki has struggled alone to get dad OUT of the bath, but I happened to be around and assisted. Let me … paint the picture:
My 84 Year Old Dad with Alzheimer’s who has Been Soaking in the Tub for an Hour Getting Out of the Tub
We drain the tub. I crawl in behind my dad and wrap my arms under his armpits and hike him up. I scoot him to the edge where he can rest. I’m still holding him, one leg in and one leg out of the tub. Vicki lifts one of Dad’s legs out. We are now both straddling the edge of the tub. Vicki starts to dry his… for lack of a better term, PENIS. BUT I’M STILL HOLDING HIM. He reacts in a way I can’t really describe. It’s kind of laughter, kind of like “ouch”, kind of like he … enjoyed it. Vicki is dying laughing. I am dying… dying. And I scream “PLEASE DON’T DO THAT WHILE I’M HOLDING HIM!” Which makes Vicki laugh even harder. She’s never physically given birth to anyone, but still claims that as you get older you can lose control of your bladder… and she was saying something like that at the time… and scolding me for making her laugh… So…. Dad’s laughing, Vicki’s laughing and I’m… trying to forget I’m alive.
Somehow, I survive that. My dad is in his birthday suit being shuffled and held up by Vicki and myself to my bed where he can sit and we can get his clothes on. But somehow, my dad has grabbed my hair turban off the hook and is using it as a penis towel… hm, okay, how do I put this. I love my dad, clearly, very much. And for sure for sure what’s mine is his (but like actually no way what’s mine is mine and you better not touch it) but… I just can’t get over this…
Wait. Do y’all know what a hair turban is? It’s essentially this small towel made from micro fiber that you wrap your hair into. It takes out a lot of excess water and is a lot more manageable than a full towel. Especially when you’re trying to put on a sports bra. I’ve learned my lesson the hard way trying to put an already hard thing to put on, on over my head with a full sized towel towering about 38 times too many. You’ve never known true struggle until you’ve tried to put a sports bra on while also having a towel on top of your head. The only thing worse than this is putting a turtleneck on with wet hair. It gets stuck under your shirt and just feels so terrible.
Okay, so Dad is using MY HAIR TURBAN as a PENIS TOWEL. And it’s like kind of cute that he still has a little modesty around me, but come on, y’all, I’m somewhat desensitized to the whole seeing my dad’s penis and balls. Like, I just am. (I’m not I need years of therapy). So, while I’m happy that my dad had a lucid moment of like “oh, my sweet and gracious and beautiful daughter is here, I should cover my pee pee” it’s like, why did he have to grab the thing I put on my clean hair? Shout out to my girlfriend’s mom who’s gifted me at least 4 hair turbans and sorry for ever thinking more than 1 hair turban is excessive.
Needless to say, bathtime means something a little different to me now. If you read this whole thing then here’s a little video treat. It’s not a joke of any kind. This is what it is like dressing my father.