Ablutophobia

 It’s a real word! It means fear of washing or bathing. And for several years I thought I was a candidate!

Not actually afraid so much as did not enjoy getting wet. Like a cat, for instance. But while I was working I knew I had to wash, if only, as Hubby says, as a Public Service.

But I’ve been retired now for a couple of years. Also, unrelated to being retired, I am at my largest girth of my life, which has resulted in what my Grandpa used to call “Dunlop’s Disease.” His belly done lopped over his belt! Hahahahahah!

The point being, I need to wash under my flap or it gets sore and inflamed...and yes, I learned that the hard way.

Also the humongous knockers, or as my pal P calls them, “the twins.”

This creates quite the difficulty for someone who is ablutophobic! Were I nice and skinny, as I was in my youth, I could get away with a shower every second day. But when one adds the age problem - you smell worse when you’re old - with the weight problem, every second day ain’t gonna cut it!

Today I discovered a “unique” solution to my bathing aversion.

Unique up on it!

I fooled myself. I went into the bathroom for a pee, and while I was there I quickly grabbed the bath mat, ran the hot water, tore my nightie off, and grabbed the hair dryer. I was in the shower before I knew it!

In, washed, out, and dried in under ten minutes.

As long as I don’t get into the conversation with myself about “Idon’twannahaveashower,everything hurts,I’drathergobacktobed,” and I leap into the shower without warning, I’m good.

You’re welcome.