Day 1,069 in the Nanny June Care Home

The One With The Titty-bigs

We crossed a line today.

I bathed Nanny June. Neither of us appreciated the experience.

Since her arrival at the home, and indeed whilst the care package was in place prior to hospitalisation and going into care (over four years ago now) there has always been a lack of compliance from Nanny June. This is a personality trait that has been a strength at many points in her life. Nanny June has had some. Tough. Times. The mentality served her well more than once... And indeed having inherited that trait myself and acting as her advocate, it seems it still does.

However, coming from Nanny June now it is it an attitude that is currently causing some friction. Nanny June won’t wash.

Shooting the breeze with Nanny June this morning (we were husband counting and recounting) a passing member of staff asked her how she was doing.

“Stinky.“

Said Nanny June.

Now, while she wasn’t repellent I’ll agree she was odorous.

Knowing the rather loaded enormity of my next question I asked it anyway...

“Would you like a bath?”

And as I knew she would - today she said yes.

Mini Morrie #3 needed collecting from pre school in an hour. I hadn’t scheduled in time for a bath.

The staff rallied. A bath was run. Bubble bath located. Then something kicked off in the dining room - the staff left and Nanny June and I were left to own devices.

We have boundaries, Nanny June and I. And this was crossing many of them. We agreed some years ago, and more than once, that this wouldn’t be a comfortable situation for either of us and wasn’t an option. Ever.

Yet, here we are, both getting on with it. Using towels and my coat to meet modesty requirements.

I put Bing Crosby music onto speaker phone and the jolly tune of “would you like to swing on a star” bounced off the walls of the industrial bathroom. Six times. When we got some members of staff back, Nanny June was hoisted then lowered into the bubbles and managed an amused(ish) comment about swinging on a star/hoist.

Now we were in a (slightly) happier place, the staff brought coffee and biscuits into the bathroom because indeed why not. And the longer in the bath the better.

The staff returned again and checked there had been some actual washing done. I kid you not - Nanny June was under towels - in the bath. This was by mutual suggestion by her and me. But yes, Nanny June confirmed she washed her Titty-bigs.

Intrigued, her three audience members (including me) repeated “Titty-bigs”?

Nanny June pointed at her arm pits - “Titty-bigs”.

Ohhhhhh - THOSE Titty-bigs.

But then I had to go and there was a big shift in atmosphere . Nanny June was not happy and she wanted out. Out of the bath, out of the room, out of there.

And I had to leave. Off to pre-school. I made it with moments to spare. Into a world of other mummies and daddies collecting lively preschoolers.

A world which welcomed me with a precious collage still wet with glue, wellies on the wrong feet and a little hand in mine.