I was too young to remember this specific memory but I do clearly remember a plastic baby-blue bathtub. Why not pink? Well, my parents did think I was going to be a boy for awhile! I remember how smooth it was, and how it smelled faintly of soap. It was one of those portable tubs designed for infants. As I got a bit older, my mom would delight me by pushing me around the apartment in the bathtub (without water of course). I would squeal with glee as we went around and around the small rooms.
My mom’s back howled in protest however. So Dad was brought in to be my captain for these bathtub races. He could push harder and faster so it became quite the thrill ride for me.
My parents told me that story so many times that I can almost see it in my mind, my damp shock of hair fluttering in the breeze as Dad whipped me around the living room. The sense of flying, while still on the ground. The unabashed glee and innocent giggles that only a baby or small child can display.
If only we could tap into some of that wide-eyed wonder and simple joy of being alive once we become adults.