The sponge. So simple, yet so enticing. It holds it’s porous shape as it dangles from my tub. I unwrap the noose from the faucet and soak it in the pool of water. It pulls in as much water as it can hold and I squeeze the warmth onto my shoulders and neck.
Submerge into the bath, release slowly onto my skin.
I’m reminded of the scene from Pretty Woman. Richard Gere is wrapped in a Julia Robert’s cradle of love. She is sponging his chest as he discusses his past.
Bath’s relax us, allow us to unwind, and some of us are lucky enough to receive a sponge bath from a long legged redhead.
On the other hand, just the mere mention of the word “sponge” can conjure up another tv moment in my mind.
I am a die hard Seinfeld fan. Just the term ” yada yada yada” brings me goose bumps and giggles. So it’s an instinct for me to hold this sponge and think of Elaine’s Today Sponge. It is going off the market and Elaine must conserve the use of her birth control. She has to decide if her suitors are “sponge worthy”. While mine is not birth control, it does make me wonder…..Is my husband sponge worthy?
I leave my sponge dangling from the faucet, secure in the fact that it will be waiting for me when I return tomorrow. But what if….what if it is used in the mean time by my husband? I don’t ask for much and I’m not a selfish person, but sharing my bath sponge feels like it is crossing the line….like heaven forbid….sharing a toothbrush. Therefore, I affirm that…. He is Not sponge worthy.
Now that it is settled, I sink back in the tub. Squeeze the hot water over my shoulders, my neck…. Who needs Richard Gere when I have my own body to sponge?