Dawn Watson/CNBNews Contributor
My knees don’t bend the way they used to. I discovered this when I was attempting to sit down in a bathtub.
I usually shower. But this time I decided to treat myself to a good, long soak. Soon, the bathroom was filled with steam and the air smelled like the rosewood bubble concoction I’d dumped in. I shut off the water and prepared to be indulged.
Since the tub seemed to be narrower than my lower body, I shifted to the side so I could wedge myself in. It would have worked just fine but my legs got tangled up and I got a cramp in my toe. I wiggled around a bit and finally worked the cramp out but then I noticed the bubbles were dissipating so I reached for the box that guaranteed softer skin and a more relaxed attitude. Unfortunately, I knocked it off the ledge.
The box fell into the water and exploded into a frothing cardboard bubble-monster that reached for me and tried to draw me into its pink, foamy depths. When my arms started to shake from bearing my not-insignificant weight on the edge of the tub I had no other option but to let go and hope for the best.
The water splashed over the edge of my porcelain vesicle while the bubbles engulfed me, popping so loudly that I was reminded of a church where everyone pulls down their prayer-kneelers at the same time.
My personal tsunami over, I waited until there was a clearing in the rosewood and pulled the plug. But the tub was slippery and so was I and I ended up slithering over the side like a python that had just swallowed a bear.
In retrospect I’m lucky I didn’t plunge through the ceiling, bathtub and all, and land on my daughter as she made business phone calls in the living room. Video calls.
In the future, I’ll shower.
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