SPLISH SPLASH

I can't remember when I last had a bath. Before you go running off holding your nose and squealing 'eeeeeew' what I mean is, I prefer to shower.

I find it so refreshing and energising standing under a torrent of water. While letting the water cascade over me I like to imagine that I'm a sort of muscle-bound Tarzan figure showering under a waterfall in the rainforest.

For me, entering the shower cubicle is like Clark Kent popping into his phone box and emerging as Superman - except in my case I become Superwrinkly.

I know that some people prefer to have a soak in a bath but I never got on with bathing. I can remember as a child being forced to go and have a bath by my mother who stood outside the bathroom door to preserve my modesty but ensure that I complied. Being the little devil I was, I ran the bath and then splashed my hand around in it a few times to simulate me having the bath though I remained standing by the side of it. OK, this time you can say 'eeeeew'.

Apart from the fact that showering uses less water so is more environmental friendly, I hate the thought of wallowing in my own dirt. Also, I remember the unpleasant feeling as the water got colder and colder. The hot water was limited in those days.

I also have unpleasant memories of baths since someone dear to me tried to kill themselves by slitting their wrists in one. In fact baths are very dangerous places as Jean-Paul Marat discovered when Corday killed him in one.

So I will stick to the safety of my lovely, refreshing shower. Ooops! I just remembered 'Psycho' ... eeek!