Card Carrying Estrogen Member

So we all know we do it. It's a hormonal thing. We often times divide and conquer obligations in our relationships by our estrogen and testosterone levels. It's true that there is more cross over now when it comes to the "standard" responsibilities of the sexes. I've discovered there are men who love to cook and many of them are much better at it than I am! I've also discovered that I am even more capable than I previously realized of taking care of the more testosterone loaded responsibilities around the house. However, there are inherent things we tend to do as males and females that are generally unique to our genders.


Part of the requirement of being an estrogen card carrying member was that it was mandated that I, just by having sole ownership of that card, frequent Bath and Body. On a somewhat regular basis. Any estrogen card holder knows this experience comes with ownership privilege. I would come home with an assortment of products for the sole purpose of taking baths with bubbles that called themselves Coconut Lime Verbena or Amber Woods, and body creams that smoothed and softened my dry Utah desert skin.

At the end of a long day (which was generally most days) I would get the kids to bed, run a hot tub filled with sweet smelling bubbles in my lovely garden tub, take a book, and ah....................I would soak the cares of the day away.


Fast forward a couple of years and one of my favorite past times has been severely inhibited. I walk in my little closet....oh sorry, I mean my bathroom. I look at the tub and longingly remembered the days where I could soak in the tub without my knees being pushed up to my chin. I look down at my reading material for the evening and sigh. The History of Islam would generally not be my first choice but I have a paper to write. I look around for all of my female bath paraphernalia and see my bottle of bubbles lying on the floor of the tub, emptying its last couple of teaspoons down the drain. Someone knocked it over and didn't pick it up.....again.

I notice I'm out of sugar scrub and wonder if I can make some. Surely I could! So I do. I really feel like pampering myself tonight so I go to scrounge up some candles. The only ones I could find were a half a dozen tea lights, but hey, in a pinch those will do! So I take my text book, light the candles, turn out the bathroom light and sink into the tub. All six inches of it. I lay there wondering if I could have a better experience if I bought a kiddie pool for the backyard, let the water warm in the sun all day, and run a little toy boat around in it when I take a bath so that it will create some bubbles.

I try the sugar scrub. Something was wrong with my sugar oil ratio and I'm left with sugar hardening on some parts of my body while other parts are streaked with oil that I just can't seem to get off....maybe the water wasn't hot enough? So, I try to read while I pretend my sugar scrub is an all over body mask. Hey, I couldn't have gotten the same treatment at the spa for 75 cents! I had just gotten to the most engrossing chapter on Islamic law when the air conditioner turned on and whooshed out my little teeny tiny tea lights.

So there I am. Laying in six inches of now cooling water in the dark; trying to dangle my now stiff from under my chin legs over the side of the tub so I don't stay in a permanent Quasimodo position. I am crusted (or would that be encrusted?) and oiled over at the same time. Yes, I have special talents. And I am thinking to myself. "Self. One day you will laugh about this. One day you may have a bath big enough to soak in without having to become a contortionist. One day, you may actually remember why you used to have normal size candles in your bath and bedroom. One day you will have a tub to take a bubble bath in that holds more than six inches of water at a time."

In the meantime, my estrogen card is going in the time out corner.

Kristin