We were young then and deeply, nay, madly in love. After the wedding bell, the exchange of our love vows blessed by the pastor, witnessed by God and our loved ones, we realised that we had only but a few dollars left in the piggy bank for our honeymoon!
So we rang up a few local resorts and finally decided on Avillion Port Dickson for our honeymoon, given that it had the best promotion that fitted our budget then. Yes it was no Maldives but still, it was a sweet honeymoon for two very contented love birds.
Throughout the honeymoon one romantic feature of the resort stuck on me — the Balinese open shower concept where one could indulge in a nice shower under the Azure blue sky and be in one with nature and the perfect symphony of tranquillity. We left the chalet with my heart etched vividly for a dream to have a wonderful shower to escape the daily stresses of life just like the one at Avillion IF we could finally afford it one day.
While I still have not found the means to afford such a close-to-nature way of taking a bath at my own home, my daily shower has somewhat redefined the 5 stars standard of any good bath.
Like any 5 stars hotel, my bathroom is well-stocked with heavenly scented shampoo and conditioner that promise to give me a shiny black mane and a good pharmaceutical-grade body scrub that promises skin as smooth as a tofu every fortnightly.
It is also equipped with an amplifier that blasts a nightly symphony that sounds like this…
The base tone is my 15 months old banging loudly on my bathroom door, shrieking, whining and screaming at the top of his lungs for ‘moooom… moooom’ that the neighbours might think that a mad calf has stormed into my home looking for his lost cow-mommy. (I still do not understand if he is in fact learning to call me Mama but sounded wrong since he has not learned how to utter any word just yet, or he is demanding to be breastfed since he knows his walking milk bottle is in the process of deep cleansing at that time.)
Just as I bubble up using a soap bar that has a lovely organic name called Songbird (how ironic), the vocal solo of my 9 years old would break through my bathroom door a few times mostly because she had a need to find out if I was done so that she could update me on what had just happened at the nightly Chinese love drama on Astro 324 that I have missed out. Last but not least, my 11 years old would steal the finale from Beethoven by trying to tell me about his school homework from outside my bathroom as I had not paid much attention to his speech earlier while having my quick dinner.
This medley goes on nightly despite my best intention to soak in some much-needed sanity after a honest day’s work at the office. I guess the dream of a good shower has not fizzled all these years but it has definitely moved on to the next level of tranquillity only a MOTHER gets to enjoy nightly. Bath-taking… (no pun intended).