worst. bath. ever. sorta

(Due to travel schedule and lack of wi-fi, I didn't get an American Idol rund-down posted. But, let me assure you, I was right!)

Three facts that pretty much sum up my mother: She watches Fox News, she takes pictures of special occasion cakes, and she's the wisest, godliest woman I know. This story tackles two of those three issues.

For the most part, it's pretty cool that my parents have a television in their bathroom. I love to turn on a late-night episode of the Golden Girls, run a bubble bath, and just escape. So, while home to visit the folks and speak at my mother's Christian book club (Chick-Lit--2nd Thursday of the month; there was a cake; Mom took a picutre). I came to the end of a long busy, busy day, and after watching a movie with mumsy (Have You Heard About the Morgans), she was off to bed. Since she was going into the bathroom for one last visit, I asked if she would mind running a bath for me. Even at 40+++, I like a little pampering. A few minutes later, there I was, immersed in deep, thick bubbles, kicked back, ready to fire up the old BlackBerry and catch up on emails that I couldn't get to during the day. Are you sensing the disaster? It's two-fold.

First came the awful, frightening, blathering noise coming from the TV. Mother had left it on, tuned to Fox News. And, not just any Fox News...Glenn Beck. Glenn Beck telling me what Jesus would have to say about global warming and environmental initiatives. I've never spent more than 5 mintues with GooBer invading my brain, and I wasn't about to let him ruin a perfectly good bath. So, I'm getting up to reach for the remote to find a Golden Girls re-run (according to hubby it's always on...), and I hear a sound even worse than the idiotic rantings of Glenn Beck. A splash, then a soft thud. Yep, my BlackBerry hitting the bottom of the tub.

Now, I don't know many people more attached to their phone than I am. It's more than my phone...it's my connection to so many people, so many ideas and things and...I'm without words. Literally. I realized--I couldn't call anybody on any other phone, because their numbers exist in my phonebook, not in my head. I have people I ONLY communicate with through text. I had a million insanely clever facebook updates left un-posted due to the dismal computer situation at my parents' house. Oh, sure, have a TV in the bathroom, but NOT wireless internet? Who does that? Yeah. People who take pictures of cakes.

So...here starts a new little chapter, because bopping down to the phone store to get a new one just isn't do-able right now, and genious here (I'm pretty sure) declined the warranty.

But, here's the upside. I'm driving back home with my parents, which means 12 hours down I-10. Normally, I'd be glued to that little screen, texting and updating and emailing. But, instead, I was listening. I learned my great-grandmother's first name was Zenobia. I learned back-stage Peyton Place secrets of my growing-up church. I didn't have one buzz, one ring, one anything to tear my attention away. It was a sweet and glorious day. Maybe I needed it? I dunno...but there's still no excuse for Glenn Beck.