Bath

Since when did having a bath – or at least admitting to having one – become a taboo for men? Tell any of your friends that you’ve recently enjoyed a hot bath and they’ll stare at you as if your ear’s just fallen off or something. I guess it’s seen as an indulgence, and men don’t do indulgence unless it involves either food, alcohol or watching sport.

Anyway, I rather enjoy having baths, which I realise is tantamount to saying I rather enjoy Sex and the City (I don’t, for the record) but to hell with it. Perhaps my confession will help other men emerge from their personal closet of shame and admit that they occasionally enjoy a bath. I tend to try and make it a bit more blokey by reading a magazine or playing on my DS while I’m sitting in a pool of my own filth, but, well, who am I trying to kid? I even have bubbles, ferchrissakes.

I guess I like the downtime. It’s not often I get the chance to genuinely relax and not have to worry about anything, and having a nice, long bath gives me a bit of time and space to just think about myself for a bit. If I’m feeling particularly self-indulgent, I might chuck in a Lush Big Blue Bath Ballistic, which smells like the sea mixed with lemon sherbert. Lovely.

Any other bath fans out there? Or do I really need to take a long, hard look at myself?

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