You'll never wash me

The bathtub was ready. The drain was plugged and a pond of fresh warm water filled the tub almost a ¼ full. It was time for his bath. So, I called to Simon and down the hall he came and stopped in front of the bathroom door, staring intently as if to say “what now?” I motioned him in by the tub and he joined me standing there in front of the sink. Then, ever so gently, I scooped him into my arms, holding him securely to my chest. I stepped into the tub, gradually crouching down into the water to place him in the warm bath. As soon as his feet submerged into the 4” deep pool, he let loose a horrendous yell. You’d have thought I pierced his side with a spear. My gut reaction was to stop and to raise him up just above the water’s surface, but that was a mistake too. The wailing continued. And, while I held him securely, I was not holding his legs together. So, now his legs are flailing in every direction and kicking water this way and that. His whole body was squirming and Kathryn, who had joined us in the bathroom to help, was freaking out. She didn’t know what to do, but she managed to close the bathroom door just before I let him loose onto the bath mat. He moved as far away from the tub as possible, but the door was shut. So, he did the only thing he knew to do and began treading linoleum like there was no tomorrow. He was determined he would somehow dig his way out under the door. This is the stuff sitcoms are made of. Part of me was laughing inside, while the other part of me was trying to figure out how in the world I would ever be able to give him a bath. After minute or so, he gave up on digging his way out and moved back to the rug. I moved close to try to reassure him before picking him up but the cries started again. This time, he decided to quickly barricade himself behind the toilet tank - wedged between the trash can and the sink. Few would consider such a locale as the promised land but for the moment, it was salvation at last. That is, until we removed the trash can and reached back behind the toilet and slowly pulled him back out. For several minutes, we tried to reassure him and shower him with affection while Kathryn and I verbally tried to figure out what we could do next. Kathryn was feeling heartbroken and ready to abandon the bathing operation. She couldn’t bear to see him in such agony. I, on the other hand, had a cat with four wet feet sequestered in a bathroom and I hadn’t come this far to turn back now. I was determined to try again, this time using the flap of skin on the back of his neck to lift and hold him. Supposedly, that’s how their mother would carry them as kittens. So, it was hard to say no when being guided by a remembrance of a mother’s care. Although still noticeably unhappy, Simon cooperated much easier. As I crouched and placed him in the now lukewarm water, he yowled again. After an initial squirm, he seemed to settle in. That is, until we actually began to pour a cup of water on him. It was the most ungodly, gut-wrenching cry I have ever heard from a cat. For a moment, I actually considered that I was really inflicting bodily injury on him. After a few more cups of water the yowls quieted and the bath began. And let me tell you, it was the quickest, most uncoordinated bath in the history of bathing. You should have seen us. My knees were giving out from crouching while I struggled to hold him with both hands and Kathryn was timidly and cautiously trying to bathe him - pausing with every movement, unsure of what Simon might say or do next. In less than two minutes, it was all over. Simon had been washed (or at least part of him), the bathroom floor was a wet, furry mess, I was beginning to regain feeling in my legs, and Kathryn was beginning to loose the ringing in her ears from the otherworldly yowling. All this on a Wednesday - with presiding at my first baptism to look forward to on Sunday. I sure hope it will be a little easier. But, then again, given the audacity of the Gospel message we encounter through the ministry of Jesus, perhaps we should go to our baptism kicking and screaming as well.