stripped from the shower...

does the shower do that to you? or the toilet? i still read a book while taking a loooooooong call. disgusting as it sounds it is therapy, i learned the habit from my sister. i actually used to sit in the bathroom with her (for some reason i just hang around her like she was some popular kid).
so last night , going to take a bath, somehow, like always all the silly thoughts came to me and i couldn't help but giggle through the experience. It did help with facing the bouts of cold water , all becoz i was too lazy to boil water and again too sleepy to turn on the heater and wait.
did anyone ever read 'pickled onions". i was unceremoniously forced to start reading at a very young age(thats how i was reading mills and boons, Harlequins, history romances, etc by the time i was 11)... i wrote my first story when i was 9 years after my sister did one called 'Fropillon's spell' and i was so wowed , i wrote one just like hers, only it went on endlessly with no plot. shame.
ANYWAY back to the point of pickled onions. MY SIS used to bring home books with silly stories time and again and this one in particular i cannot find anywhere, unless i take another cold shower and try remember the anthology it featured in.but the memory of that story washed over me as i gasped at the first jabs of icy water on my skin. a muddled hazy recollection but so there! and with about three rounds of cold water over the ones before, i was braver and my memory less fuzzed...story of the little boy who's best friend fell ill with chicken pox and he was left to tramp around all his summer hols alone. in one of his vagabond wanderings, twilight at his heels he approaches what looks like the backside of a warehouse and decides to investigate, climbs through the broken window, stumbles in the semi dark room that's piled with boxes whose labels he can't make out. in his random stumblings, little boy falls upon tins and that's how he discovers the delicious haven he named 'pickled onions.' stabbing his fingers into tin after tin, his hands felt through the soft squishy pulp within and he ate with relish....pickled onions! little boy got addicted and every evening as the shadows of night drew nigh, he stole through that broken window to feed on the pickled onions,for two more weeks as his friend steadily recovered from the pox.

finally when he could hang with his buddy again, he told him about the warehouse and its stash of pickled onions. his friend was eager to see and together they went to this place in the middle of the afternoon with the sun high in the sky. Little boy showed his friend the back of the warehouse and the window he used to clamber through. in the light of day it did look old dilapidated and broken down. when his friend saw this. he silently led his friend to the front of the 'pickled onions' ware house where the huge sign screamed out at them, 'EYE SPECIALIST CENTRE FOR SURGERY AND EYE DONATIONS"
the little boy excused him self went off to a nearby bush and threw up!
deliciously disgusting innit?
have a fab weekend!