Thankful for hot showers.

Once we had a neighbor who said that air-conditioning was one of the greatest achievements of modern man.

Air-conditioning is very nice; if I had to give up air-conditioning, there are days when I would be quite uncomfortable.

However, the luxury I love,
the luxury I revel in,
the luxury I would never want to give up

is the hot shower.

I do enjoy my hot showers.
Not too hot, that they scald me,
but just perfectly hot, with a slight bite,
thrumming pressure,
and steam rising to clear my head.

I like how the falling water
drowns out sounds beyond the bathroom.
Nothing exists except me,
a bar of cocoa butter soap,
and warm water cascading
through my hair and down my back.

Sweet smelling shampoo
lathers atop my head,
thick and foamy.

Slippery soap,
a washcloth,
and (as the commercial used to say)
a thousand body parts.

Clean.  Warm.  Fresh.  Wet.

A doctor once told me,
"One shower is worth
more than eight hours of sleep."

And when it's time to stop,
it requires a profusion of willpower
to break the regaling flow,
to turn the water off,
no.

One more rinse,
then ease the temperature up a notch,
and do yet one more rinse,
until maturity demands cessation.

But even that isn't so bad,
if enfolding, absorbent towels await.

I am thankful for hot showers.

(continuing to keep it real with more spontaneous cell phone photography)