I Told Our Only Son to Fuck Off on Christmas Day

So, you’re reading that headline and you’re rushing to judgment. Such language, you’re thinking. At Christmas too, you’re thinking. His only son, you’re thinking. You’re clearly not very good at thinking is what I’m thinking. Read on. I guarantee that by the time you’ve finished this article, you’ll be on my side.

The Ice Bath

Do you know what an ice bath is and what it’s used for? The concept is simple. After exercising in the manner of your choosing, you fill a bath with cold water, bung in some ice cubes and then sit in it for a few minutes. The theory is they ease sore muscles and generally aid your recovery after an intense bout of physical activity.

Elite athletes have been using them for ages, but now the use of ice baths has trickled down to non-elite athletes. That’s basically everyone you won’t see at the next Olympics. Personally speaking, the whole idea sounds like the kind of service a body might pay a dominatrix to provide, but hey, it takes all sorts.

Environmental Impact

Our son goes to the gym four or five times a week. He’s been coming home each time and doing the whole ice bath routine. If you switched on CNN recently and heard that Northern Ireland was experiencing water shortages, you’ll know who’s to blame.

My wife and I were concerned about this water wastage issue. We were also concerned about having limited access to our bathroom on any given evening and the number of clean towels we’ve been getting through. The official line, though, is that we were worried about the impact on the environment.

I’ve been told to keep pushing that.

So, we decided to get him his very own ice bath for Christmas. I repeat, she decided to get him his very own ice bath for Christmas.

They’re cheap and easy to assemble, she said. The ideal purchase for someone who’s cheap and not very good at assembling things, she said, laughing loudly. Ha, ha, I said, very nearly smiling.

Reservations

Once you’ve put them together, you stick them outside and fill them with water. They come with a cover, so you don’t have to empty them every time you use them. If you hear on CNN that Northern Ireland’s water shortage problem is over, you’ll know who to thank.

So why did I have reservations about the ice bath idea given these obvious advantages? Two reasons; wind and rain. Those are the default weather settings in Ireland for about nine months of the year. Who sits in an ice bath while bits of trees and roof slates fly past their ears?

Deranged people, that’s who. I didn’t want the neighbours thinking our son is a deranged person. I didn’t want to think our son is a deranged person. Consequently, and much as I hate laying down the law, I said to the wife, over my dead body.

Christmas morning came and our son was genuinely delighted with the ice bath.

Filthy Patio

Now, a word about the state of our patio. We’ve had gales and non-stop rain for days. The winds have been so strong I got up one morning to find the rainproof cover of my bike had blown down the garden and wrapped itself around a bush. Pot plants had been upended and there was compost and soil all over the place. The heavy rain had mixed with this to form a covering of sludge.

I hadn’t cleaned any of this up by Christmas morning. The weather’s been so poor, I hadn’t had the chance. No big deal, I thought. No one’s out the back in this weather anyway. What’s the rush?

The rush, it turned out, was my son wanting to try out the ice bath. I suggested he leave the ice bath test for a day or two to allow the howling wind to drop and time for me to clean up the patio. I pointed out he’d be walking his Crocs through a filthy patio in a force-10 gale. Is that how he wanted to spend Christmas morning?

Yep, it was. Deranged person alert!

Blue Lips

I helped him position the ice bath on the patio before unwinding the garden hose and filling it with water. We took turns holding the hose to allow the other person to take shelter from the wind and rain. Each time one of us went back into the house, a trail of muddy water was left on the kitchen floor.

Finally, he stripped down to his shorts, stepped into the bath and submerged himself in the icy water. He didn’t stay in it for too long. Just long enough for his lips to turn blue. Then he came back into the house, dripping his way through the kitchen.

On his way past, he said to me through chattering teeth, “That was great. Why don’t you give it a try?” He was smiling, a deranged person’s smile.

I looked up from cleaning sludge off the kitchen tiles, asked him if he was stark raving mad and told him to fuck away off.

There. Told you you’d be on my side.