Earlier this week I posted a very, very serious question regarding bathtubs. I wanted answers. Legitimate answers from honest moms willing to make me feel less guilty about my own flaws. The question was this: Exactly how long is it socially and hygenically acceptable to go without scrubbing your bathtub?
I was secretly hoping and praying with fervent pleas that at least 100 ladies would tell me that it was OK to never wash my tub. Ever. These ladies would become my people and I would become theirs. We would be one against the world of anal-retentive tub-scrubbers we've heard tell of. And following up those faithful hundred, maybe there would be a handful (a large handful) of people who would've told me that yearly tub-scrubs would suffice. Those people would receive an affectionate Christmas card from me and my ladies, along with a condolence card to help them through their Dark Day of scrubbing. And then there would hopefully be even another handful (small.... Very small) of women willing to put me in my place and tell me that I have to clean at least twice yearly.
People, I wasn't thrilled with the response. SOMEONE made me realize that I am failing and that it can no longer be ignored. I am a dirty, dirty woman and probably destined to an eternity cleaning Heaven's bathtubs. But then I realized something.... I think that, A) my ladies have yet to find the courage to out themselves as unclean, or B) it's because I didn't set the stage adequately enough in my original Facebook post. So allow me to digress....
I originally failed to mention that I have chronic back pain (whine) and that I have a 10-month-old baby who lets me accomplish literally NOTHING during my day (sob). But most importantly, cleaning the bathtub is the worst. The absolute pits! It's stupid and gross and I'll hate it always and forever. After all, if it were just my germs, I probably wouldn't even bother washing it ever... until I saw mold. Then maybe I'd put on my big girl panties and bite the bullet... but only for mold. As for soap scum, I find this oxymoron to be utterly ridiculous. Soap's job is literally to wash away scum. So the utter idea that the two could marry and form an evil film around my shower is nonsense. I choose to ignore said film and pretend that it's just a line of memories from dirty days gone by.
As for the rest of my family:
My husband and all his manly dirtiness bathes in our downstairs shower. All wood chips, mud, and fireplace smoke have been banned from the rest of the house entirely, so the amount of grime build-up for our family has been reduced by at least 50% right there.
Then there is Cameron. Honestly, I'm pretty sure he doesn't even bathe. I mean, I send him up to the bathroom and all, and he comes back wet most of the time, but because he still has mud coating his skin, I don't think he actually does anything other than stand in the water. He may even just shove his head under the faucet for a few seconds before he resumes playing with his toy cars on the bathroom floor until the appropriate amount of shower time has passed.
Taylor is the size of a watermelon. How much soap scum could possibly be created by a watermelon??
And Isaac, well, his version of taking a bath includes swishing and flopping and shimmying all over the tub... kind of like a human sponge, some may say. So in essence, the very nature of him bathing is the equivalent of me using a midget-sized sponge covered in Johnson & Johnson all over my shower. That should at least buy me a month of tub scrubs right there!
Wyatt pooped once in the bath. I blame all tub grime on his teeny-tiny bottom.
And finally, there's myself. In the off-chance that I get the time to shower, I spend equal time washing myself and scrubbing questionable looking patches off the tiles. I use Cameron's wash cloth (because I know he isn't using it anyway). After all, the tub's already wet, there's soap suds floating around, and I can rinse off quickly when the scrubbing-exertion makes me sweaty.
So now you have all the facts. And knowing these facts, I ask the question again. Just how long can I go without officially scrubbing my tub? Come on, ladies, I'm looking for my faithful hundred!! ;)
I was secretly hoping and praying with fervent pleas that at least 100 ladies would tell me that it was OK to never wash my tub. Ever. These ladies would become my people and I would become theirs. We would be one against the world of anal-retentive tub-scrubbers we've heard tell of. And following up those faithful hundred, maybe there would be a handful (a large handful) of people who would've told me that yearly tub-scrubs would suffice. Those people would receive an affectionate Christmas card from me and my ladies, along with a condolence card to help them through their Dark Day of scrubbing. And then there would hopefully be even another handful (small.... Very small) of women willing to put me in my place and tell me that I have to clean at least twice yearly.
People, I wasn't thrilled with the response. SOMEONE made me realize that I am failing and that it can no longer be ignored. I am a dirty, dirty woman and probably destined to an eternity cleaning Heaven's bathtubs. But then I realized something.... I think that, A) my ladies have yet to find the courage to out themselves as unclean, or B) it's because I didn't set the stage adequately enough in my original Facebook post. So allow me to digress....
I originally failed to mention that I have chronic back pain (whine) and that I have a 10-month-old baby who lets me accomplish literally NOTHING during my day (sob). But most importantly, cleaning the bathtub is the worst. The absolute pits! It's stupid and gross and I'll hate it always and forever. After all, if it were just my germs, I probably wouldn't even bother washing it ever... until I saw mold. Then maybe I'd put on my big girl panties and bite the bullet... but only for mold. As for soap scum, I find this oxymoron to be utterly ridiculous. Soap's job is literally to wash away scum. So the utter idea that the two could marry and form an evil film around my shower is nonsense. I choose to ignore said film and pretend that it's just a line of memories from dirty days gone by.
As for the rest of my family:
My husband and all his manly dirtiness bathes in our downstairs shower. All wood chips, mud, and fireplace smoke have been banned from the rest of the house entirely, so the amount of grime build-up for our family has been reduced by at least 50% right there.
Then there is Cameron. Honestly, I'm pretty sure he doesn't even bathe. I mean, I send him up to the bathroom and all, and he comes back wet most of the time, but because he still has mud coating his skin, I don't think he actually does anything other than stand in the water. He may even just shove his head under the faucet for a few seconds before he resumes playing with his toy cars on the bathroom floor until the appropriate amount of shower time has passed.
Taylor is the size of a watermelon. How much soap scum could possibly be created by a watermelon??
And Isaac, well, his version of taking a bath includes swishing and flopping and shimmying all over the tub... kind of like a human sponge, some may say. So in essence, the very nature of him bathing is the equivalent of me using a midget-sized sponge covered in Johnson & Johnson all over my shower. That should at least buy me a month of tub scrubs right there!
Wyatt pooped once in the bath. I blame all tub grime on his teeny-tiny bottom.
And finally, there's myself. In the off-chance that I get the time to shower, I spend equal time washing myself and scrubbing questionable looking patches off the tiles. I use Cameron's wash cloth (because I know he isn't using it anyway). After all, the tub's already wet, there's soap suds floating around, and I can rinse off quickly when the scrubbing-exertion makes me sweaty.
So now you have all the facts. And knowing these facts, I ask the question again. Just how long can I go without officially scrubbing my tub? Come on, ladies, I'm looking for my faithful hundred!! ;)