I think they call it a Whore’s Bath. 
Yes, that is what we are getting by on in this house at the moment. We have been without heat or hot running water now for six days and it is beginning to take its toll. Of course Bibsey is still smelling of roses as we run up and down the stairs each evening with buckets and pans of hot water from the stove for her bath. But Mr B. and I are starting to feel a little bit funky and not in a good way.
El fontanero is due very soon to pick up the money to go and by the necessary part to fix the bloody boiler. And it won’t be a moment too soon. If we are lucky we will have heat and water tonight. I can’t wait. I mean I literally can’t wait – so it is a whore’s bath for me.
Loving the very polite Wiktionary definition of this charming phrase involving the application of: “a pre-moistened towelette, to extend the interval between showers”
Oh, can I also say thanks goodness for baby wipes.
