Yesterday was National Read in the Bathtub Day. Honestly, there’s a day for everything now. But this is one “holiday” I can get into. Other people enjoy scrapbooking or quilting or gardening or running or any number of other hobbies. My very favorite leisure activity is soaking in a hot tub with a good book. And a mug of tea. Ahhh.
And yes, the Kindle goes with me just fine. And no, I haven’t dropped a book (or electronic device!) in the tub. At least, not since high school when I ruined a Louis L’Amour.
Here’s the thing about reading in the tub. If someone calls out for you to do something, you can holler back, “I’m in the tub.” If the phone rings, there’s no point in trying to answer it–it’ll just stop by the time you dry off and get there. Someone at the door? Too bad. Being in the tub is a sort of enforced respite. The perfect excuse to shut out the world.
Although Thistle is welcome to stick her puppy-dog nose in and peer at me. She even samples the water on occasion. And I think the two of us agree–it’s just fine.