That’s me in the bath. Shocking, says you. A woman, who hates the bath? You must be havin’ a laugh. But who has time for a long soak? There’s only so much you can do lying there in a puddle of warm bubbles. I can’t get my list of jobs done. I can’t get a novel written. I’d soak for Britain if I could do that at the same time. “No electronics in the bath, Debra.” That’s my husband. He thinks I’m joking about not liking a long soak. But it’s the feeling in my hands and feet whe

Poetry was made for mothers, scribbling stanzas in stolen moments during bath time, defenseless against sudsy splashes, or silently and...

Friday, February 24, 2006 12:30 PM We picked up (four-year-old) Kayla early from Solel preschool. Gabe jokingly mentioned to Hailey’s mom...