Earl H. Roberts
The doctor said, twice a day, in the bathtub, soak for 15 minutes. I did not have a bathtub. I am a man of the shower? A loyal friend got me a tub.
It was long and black, just slightly higher than a kiddie pool, but not quite as round. I filled it with hot water and stuck my toe in. It was too hot of course. One can't have that, can one? I wondered as I held my scalded toe and danced around.
Cold water in ample supply solved the problem. The next time my toe went in the rest of me followed. I had set the timer for 15 minutes. When the time was up the light would go out.
That was the theory.
I sat there for an hour. The light was still on; the timer had quit. I went to look at the clock. It had quit working too. Talk about drotted luck; my wristwatch on the bed had quit on the very same second. I dialed a certain number so I could reset them as needed, and found out either the whole world was frozen in space or I had indeed been hovering in the tub for only 6 minutes and 42 seconds.
I drummed my fingers on the shower curtain as I looked at the tub. Obviously this kind of therapy was not as easy as it sounded. I put my toe into the water and decided it was too cool. Hot water in ample supply solved that problem. I followed my toe into the tub and looked at it, then the others beside it. I drummed my fingers on the side of the tub. Then I looked at my toes.
Then I wondered if Buddha had ever needed his toes trimmed. Naturally everyone does, and soaking your nails does make them easier to trim. Therefore, Buddha must have sat in a bathtub at some point in time or space too. That thought gave me comfort. Buddha had believed in contemplation. I would contemplate. Have you ever sat in a bathtub and contemplated? It is far from easy. What is there to contemplate about in the bath tub but the facts in front of your face, namely your toes?
As I contemplated them I realized they did need trimming. "At least this soak will soften them so I can trim the nails more easily."
I tried to think of something else, anything else. I never got past my toes. What good are toes? I did not come up with a good answer. Houdini could use his toes like a second set of hands. I can't even use my hands like a second set of hands.
I contemplated my toes some more. The big toe was too big and the little toe was too little. That made my feet lopsided. Maybe if I had begun contemplating my toes in the first grade when I first learned about Buddha my feet would not have been crooked. How can we know cause and effect when nothing is certain in this world but death and taxes? I gave my navel a good scrubbing, then looked to see if my toes were done yet. They weren't.
I rose from the tub and shook the timer so hard the window panes rattled. There were still 4 more minutes to go. Just then the phone rang.
Saved by the bell. I snatched it up. It was no savior, it was my land lady. "What's going on up there?" she asked.
"Buddha's in the bathtub," I replied. "And he’s having a hard time contemplating."
Start Ex Ploring
Books For Children
Bird Identication Videos
Essays About War
Essays About The Family
Essays About Money
Free Books To Read
Protect Your Bright Smiles
Back to our Front Page
Images Made For You
Build Your Own Web Sites
Book Trailers Made For You
Banners, logos, home pages, book covers