I decided that I would treat myself today to a long and wonderful Jacuzzi bath. Perfect time. Adam is sleeping, Jenn’s at work. Pheonix in school. Puppies fed – dogs walked – dishes done – etc.
I’ve earned it.
Indeed.
There is a rule of thumb I have never been schooled on, having never been a Jacuzzi tub owner. Beware a child’s bubble bath. A product specifically designed to create – bubbles. Of course. How silly of me.
The waters the perfect temperature. Just hot enough to disqualify a man from a good game of marble toss, but not so hot as to melt the carrying bag. Men know what I mean. It is THE perfect temperature.
Hit the jets, add a cap of the bubbly, lean back, close eyes, and enjoy this Eglasias comedian fellow on DVD.
It wasn’t until the bubbles tickled my nose that I opened my eyes. Knowing full well that I was seated in an almost 90 degree angle. Perfect timing.
The bubbles have been encouraged in their natural design by the jets, and I am now watching them expand and flow over the side of the tub.
Anyone can tell you that in a panic situation, the first instinct for any seated human is to get to ones feet as quickly as possible. This instinct comes in complete contrast to the rules of bathing.
Up I came, like a flash, lost my balance, and down I went. Completely submersed and now having showered the bathroom in bubbles.
I waited a moment to gather my thoughts and composure – making a mental note to check for broken hips, and then emerged resembling an albino Yeddi
It came to me that the best way to combat bubbles is to hit them with cold water. Any bubbles. This is very effective.
It is also effective in ensuring that you will be sitting on the bench for the next game of marble toss.
Prunish, cold, frustrated and laughing, I cleaned up and all was well in the end.
And the puppies? Amazing – growing as fast as weeds – this weekend they get a new home with me on the sleeping porch.
S
