Say hello to the most common threats to showering without stress when I was a child - the
I know there are many out there who know not of what I speak, but if you ever lived in or visited a home before 1983 in regional Queensland you will nod your head and say "ah yes" with a little flutter of repressed panic in your voice.
1983 is the year that bathroom renovation hit the regional register, I believe.
Oh, I am not saying we were all hicks, but prior to 1983 while bathtub may have moved into the main building there was always the shower for the workmen down on the cement block where the laundry was, where the plumbing was "adequate" (if adequate is expanded to include drains being hollowed grooves in the concrete or a pipe from the wall) - and where the walls/doors/windows did not offer full protection from the
Now, it is the case that the true fear of my childhood wasn't ever the frogs, it was the frogs jumping on me - or towards me, at least. I once had a few of these friends as my "pets" so it wasn't really about the frog - my fear was definitely restricted to the bathroom when I was vulnerable and naked.
There is one other vulnerable moment in a young girl's life that can also be affected by the
Take for example the ensuite to a bedroom infrequently used, and my adventures within on the evening before I write this epistle.
Now, to do this experiment at home, first you must have someone use the ensuite earlier in the day, ensuring that the light is left on to attract insects, and the door both into the ensuite and out to the garden surrounded balcony are left open.
When I first went in to put my things in for my shower, I had certain expectations. I mean, at the family bathroom, there were three very fat
The good news with the
Having an urge to use the other facilities on offer, I moved towards the toilet - and three more heads popped up from the tank. That increased the degree of difficulty, I can tell you.
Then when I switched on the shower, they began to call to each other - to the one in the upper corner of the ceiling, the one behind the towel rail, the one on the side of the dirty clothes basket - but thankfully, none in the enclosed shower stall.
In I went, closed the doors and breathed a sigh of relief - at least I was safe from their jumps - until I noticed movement at the top of the gap the sliding door left when it was closed - and as much as I enjoy looking at the bottom end of a frog statue while showering, I am sure both the frog and I breathed again with relief when I abluted with full speed and escaped!
It could have been worse. Sometimes other things follow the frogs into dwellings... (please note how nice I am not finding an image of the green tree snake?)
What is the scariest bathroom experience (short of remembering The Shining) for you?