The Tub, the Stove, and Theater Bartlesville

I don't know if you guys know what it's like, bathing with a bucket.
The hardest thing is to figure out whether to choose speed, dryness of the floor, or a compromise between the two ending up in an hour-long bath and a floor with a puddle of water on it.
There's also the fact that since the water's cold, you have to scrub really hard, several times. We got sponges that are used for washing dishes--with the green, tough side and the yellow, soft side. I use the green side!
And I still wasn't getting very clean.
Last night, I walked into Walmart, slipping on the floor in my flip-flops, wet from the rain. But I caught myself with a confident smile.
I was gonna get a bigger tub.

Later, I heated three hervidores' full while I bathed in that big, plastic tub. Ephraim made popcorn on the new two-burner electric stove and I could smell it all the way around in the bedroom--the only place that's safe to bathe in. There's a door, though not on its hinges, and a window with a "curtain" on it.
After that, we sat on Ephraim's bed and ate popcorn and played Civilization till 11:00.

I walked into the theater today, not having a clue what to expect--whether it be a full-sized auditorium, or an office... What would it be?
It was a place where you could buy tickets, with glass windows that could swing in or out like doors. It was so easy to sign up! No money to pay!
I ran to the car (I run, not walk, in the city. I like running because, when do you ever get a chance?) And I said,
"Ephraim, give me a fist bump."

I've been trying to write a story about a public-schooler who has good grades and suddenly things go wrong and the moral is kind of, "pride goes before a fall".
But there's no way I can. On every page, I write another few questions that I need to ask Mama about public school. Then I think, But Mama doesn't even know about what it's like nowadays. Then I answer, then I'll make it be about when she was little. I've thought that same thing and forgotten, several times now.
I was writing, trying to get around my ignorance, when I heard Ephraim say,
"Yeah, she's writing again. All she ever wants to do is write and eat."
"Yeah," Papa said. "But that's just what she was doing over here."
I started laughing and I actually closed the book, just so that I could laugh.

I have to end now. Good day.