Confessions # 1 – Bubble bath

Ok don’t get excited. There are many other racier blog artists than me out there (check out some of those listed in Bibsey Digs). Even so, what is the point of having your very own blog if not to treat it like your very own confessional – however moderate your transgressions?

So here goes. For my first confession I would like to talk about my penchant for Bubble Bath. And by this I mean of course: Cava in the bath. I am sure all the Spaniards do it. No? Whatever.

Not me. Not my bath.

When the grime of motherhood gets too much I persuade Totally Smitten Daddy to take his darling daughter for a walk after her morning nap so that I can have a bath and wash the rats tails. I don’t know what comes over me, but as soon as they leave the house I feel compelled to crack open the cava. (So now you know Mr B)

I race to the bathroom to get the bath going then dash to the fridge to get the fizzly bubbly poured into some old yogurt pot (I kid you not. Reasons for this another day). I then drink it at speed in the bath while looking at some Spanish verbs or reading up on what to feed my baby next.

A London supernanny friend of mine tells me that she and a friend (with a baby girl a little younger than Bibs) were laughing the other day at my lack of guilt at lunchtime drinking. I didn’t like to tell her that my bathtime drinking can start before 11am – a time of day that my sister (who I trust implicitly) considers to be absolutely fair and just. Right and proper. I do love my sister.

It used to be that I would think nothing of drinking at this time in the morning. But that was back in the day when I would regularly stay up all night. More of those confessions at a later date I suspect.

So, this is my confession. What’s yours?