It’s massage day – Hurrah!!! The appointment is set and my back and hips are telling me it’s about time.
I’ll tell you that my daughter is my therapist. I see this as one of the better perks in my life, but I digress.
I have some rituals on massage day – a bath (one needs to be clean), deodorant (one needs to smell clean), and if at all possible – bowel evacuation (if you’ve ever had a massage on the lower part of your body, you’ll need no explanation for this).
It’s virtually impossible to relax when you know someone is going to consistently push on your lower back. One has to keep all of the muscles tightly contracted to prevent those little “stinkers” from escaping. I try!
Often, I’m lucky, but when it’s beyond the scope of my control, my massage therapist is never gracious about receiving these little bursts. Because I’m her mother, she feels she can cough and sputter and carry on with her mellow dramatics.
This only makes me laugh and you can guess the result of that! It is always a great relief (to both of us) when the treatment goes without incident.
You’ll notice there is no author identified with this brief treatise. Tell me, would you sign it?
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