Shit soap

Some things come back to bite you when you least expect them. I did not expect this one. When people say do unto others as you would want them to do to you, respect it. Your life, or soap, might just depend on it. This story is about two events that happened within the period of two months. The first, well, was my doing. The second, I hope, was Baby’s.

APRIL.

It all started one cold morning. Baby and I were in the shower, bathing to get ready for work. ‘The bathroom’ was a spacious tile layered next-room to our bedroom, with a tub; toilet and brushing sink as well. A mirror hung in the space between the sink and the toilet. I prefer keeping the toilet seat down and the cover closed always when we are inside because our normal routine is always the same and ‘Baby’, as you would have guessed by now, is my Lover. He hates being called ‘Baby’ I think. I am stubborn. I always call him Baby.

Baby grabs a brush; half fills the head with toothpaste. He prefers Sensodyne, stands holding a side of the brushing sink and attacks his teeth with the weaponry at hand.

I do not much care for Sensodyne. I love its advert on TV about a group of culturally diverse people all with dental problems though. One cannot drink cold water, her teeth aches. Another cannot eat her ice cream except on the right side of her mouth. All of them felt better after they’d brushed their mouth with Sensodyne. They all drank ice cold water and it didn’t hurt. The image of the woman with the East African accent and the Indian-looking man with the absolutely endearing smile always linger in my head whenever I see it.

Well, Baby finishes his tooth-ritual and covers his almost non-visible beards with shaving foam, Gillette, and shaves with a Gillette shaving stick. Once done, he douses his chin with aftershave, No. 7, and gets in the tub, Shower in hand.

My schedule is never the same. I could get in the tub halfway through his routine, bathe, brush my teeth and jump into the bedroom to towel my body and apply some cream, making a mess of the floor. On this particular day though, something different happened. The toilet seat was left open. I do not remember how or who left it ajar. Anyway, we both got in the bathroom, I in the tub and baby, standing under the shower, closer to the toilet seat. He soaped up, passes me the soap, and repeats the soaping ritual a second time. While at it, with a huge lather on his face, the soaped slipped, falling into the toilet. I saw it happen.

‘The soap fell in the toilet’ I announced. Baby washed his face.

‘Yes’

‘Won’t you pick it up? Are we to let a barely used Lifebouy become waste’?

‘What? Like you will use it if I bring it out of this shit-bowl?’

‘Who said anything about me using it if it comes out of there? That’s like punishing A for B’s misdeed’ I replied.

So baby retrieved the soap with a discarded biro, sticking the pointed sides into the softening soap. Soap came out alright. I was never to touch the shit-soap for the next 6 days. A bit surprised that it finished that fast too…

Baby forgot the incidence shortly after, or so I thought.

MAY

The bathroom is different. The tub is in the other room now. This bathroom possesses a shower with a huge head only. The toilet and brushing sink stayed though. We are in the bathroom same time again today. A bird coo cooed outside the window. I should have known to look down before turning the high powered shower on. The toilet seat is up.

Shhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrr!!!

My eyes are closed. I reach out for the soap on the soap-ledge close to the toilet, grabbed it, I am not very lucky at my grip. The soap is in the toilet now. I turn off the shower, towels my face. Baby is hysterical with laughter, barely standing on the wet floor.

‘I knew my day will come’ he laughed some more.

‘You really expect me to reach down the toilet and retrieve the soap?’

‘Isn’t that the rule?’ he is still laughing hard.

I had two choices. Flush the toilet and defend my action and abolish the Law I had set-without-thinking or reach down and bring out the half used transparent Pears soap in the recently used toilet. I am brave. I reached down the toilet with my left hand. Baby is on the floor now, laughing till tears gush out his eyes like the Shower in my right hand. I am trying to act calm now. Perhaps, ‘satisfaction’ for him would be any sign of weakness on my part.

‘This is a little stupid, really.’ I managed to say. Hoping the sound of rushing water would drown his bellowed laughter.

‘You did not know this day would come, did you? I am sure you will write about this soon.’ baby croons. I will not respond to that yet. I may, maybe, after I’d used up my shit-soap alone. Life is not fair. I should stop sulking now.

(c) May 2012