when i was a kid, we lived in tudor house on forestdale road. it had three bedrooms and one full bath upstairs, although it seems looking back now that it was all kind of cramped together off of this one small hallway. the bathroom was at the top of the stairs, separating my parents bedroom from mine and my sisters. the bathroom was brown and beige- i have no idea why it was so drab. it was a pretty big bathroom too- there was a shower stall, then a space under the window and a full tub. the toilet was next to the tub, and the sink was on the wall opposite the tub, with a wall mirror and lots of counter space. i think there was a closet in there too, which i completely forgot about until just now.
i have a lot of memories of that bathroom. this sounds strange, i know. but i do. when we were little kids, we'd take baths together- sometimes with our cousin kim too! we'd play with these my little ponies that could go in the water. they had little shell houses that suction-cupped to the tub. we could brush their hair and make them swim around. we sang songs and had a grand old time, which looking back on it was totally our parents way of getting us clean without complaining. i think i was one of those kids who hated bathing. i especially hated showers, but i have fond memories of baths. i loved the feeling of relaxing in warm water, making the water splash with my every movement and watching my fingers turn to prunes. having arielle and kim in the bath was equally fun, although three little girls in a tub did tend to cause a space issue from time to time.
even when it wasn't bath time, sometimes we'd just hang out in the bathroom. i used to keep arielle company in there, sitting on the ledge of the tub or under the window talking about our day or our friends or what we were going to wear. i remember laughing in there. the sound echoing and filtering out the window to the backyard.
i also remember watching my mother put on makeup a lot. my mom had an entire cabinet to herself next to the sink for her makeup. well, she likely had other things in there- facial products, etc. but i never thought about that when i was a kid. i just knew that's where she kept her makeup. and i remember sitting on the counter or behind her on the tub and watching her put on foundation, mascara, lipstick. she'd let me play with her old lipstick tubes, which were usually thick and gold and made me feel fancy. her cabinet smelled like her perfume, which i think she kept on one of the shelves. when you opened the cabinet the smell of my mother would waft out as you looked for whatever it is you needed. Shalamar. that's the perfume she wore most of the time. i know exactly what it smells like.
i shaved my legs for the first time in that bathroom. i think i was in seventh grade. a lot of my friends at summer camp had already started shaving the summer before, and i did not want to be all hairy when my friends legs were smooth and soft. i locked the door and borrowed some of my mother's shaving cream and one of her disposable razors and got to work. i don't think i cut myself too badly, but my mother was definitely shocked when she realized what i had done. she wasn't mad though. at least, not that i can remember. i don't think we had a lot of rules about when we could shave our legs or start wearing makeup. when she noticed that I was interested in wearing it- she showed me how to do a little and not look like a clown, which was helpful.
i had a dream recently where i woke up and went to go to the bathroom, and it was that bathroom. brown and beige. it seemed natural, as though in my dream i used this bathroom everyday. and it was so weird- because we moved away from that house the fall i started high school, when i was 13. i hadn't even thought about it in years. and yet ever since that dream i think about it. i remember the smell of my mother's perfume, which i think she still wears most of the time- even though i know she has others. i don't know why it's suddenly come up, but i find it comforting to think about. memories are weird that way.
No comments:
Post a Comment