Monday, March 19, 2012

The Terrible Bathtub Tale

Who knew that for the Potts' clan the prerequisite for buying a new home was the size of the master bathtub?  For most families, it's the location of the home.  Are there decent schools nearby?  What does the neighborhood look like?  Is it sitting on top of a recycled county dump?  These are important questions and some of which, for a moment, did pass through our minds. 

When Eric and I where in Denver looking for a new home, we were under a bit of a time constraint.  As we pulled in front of the model homes, we had less than an hour to reach a 30-year decision which would force our hand in leaving Southern California and all that we knew behind.  It all boiled down to the size of the master bathroom tub.

Yes, my dear friends and blog readers.  You are correct in assuming that there is a story behind this story, but then again, isn't there always?  Before I begin, I must set two specific and very strict guidelines:

1:  Children under eighteen must have their parent's permission to read any further. (Yeah, right!  Now I'm going to get thousands of hits from thirteen year olds around the world and screaming "disgusting" by the end of this blog.  Kids, you've been so warned.)

2:  To my nieces, nephews, cousins, in-laws, and immediate family members, I swear to haunt you and your ancestors 'til the end of eternity if this becomes an annual Thanksgiving Day story.

The Terrible Bathtub Tale

As many of you know, I'm a bathtub girl.  I've always been.  If I could spend my days cooking, chatting on the phone, and typing my blog in a tub of hot, sudsy water I would be an eternal blob of wrinkled, pruney skin.  However; of course, with all things magical, there are curses.  I remember hearing something or other once about "never frying naked".  This would be the ultimate mistake and water and oil could also make a bad combination worse, so therefore the attempt will never be made.  Secondly, confession time.  I have - on more than one occasion - chatted with people while soaking.  This has proven to create awkward situations.  When a quiet "bubble" becomes an explosion or the sound of the drain empties while discussing your son's suspension, well - it's uncomfortable.  Finally, I've often contemplated typing my blog while relaxing in the water but the idea that it would become my final eulogy is a rather sobering thought.  So mainly I use the tub for what it is intended for..washing and soaking.

My dear one, my husband, the love of my life, Eric, has always been a shower guy unless I'm in the bath.  Now this is where the fidgeting begins, myself included.  My man loves to join me.  In our earlier wedded days, the concept disturbed this modest woman to no end.  I could barely change my clothes in front of him much less crawl into such an intimate space.  After time, things have changed.  Eric and I are very comfortable with each other now.  In fact, one our favorite places to talk and work things out is in the tub.  There's a certain intimacy and depth of love between us there (depending on how deep the tub is of course).  So far so good?  Still squirmy?  Hang on to your chair.  The story gets really funky from here.

When Eric and I were first married, before we adopted the boys, we lived in a small, 2-bedroom townhouse.  My husband is somewhat overweight, but not by much.  As we lived alone together those first years, my weight started ballooning.  I was becoming one very big, fluffy girl.  In Eric's eyes, I wasn't changing at all; however, something odd was happening...OUR BATHTUB WAS GETTING SMALLER!  Unfortunately, one day it was brought to our attention in a very bizarre and twisted way.

The tub in our master bath was a little bit longer and just a tad bit wider than standard sized bathtubs in new homes.  When we sat and soaked together, I would sit in the back and Eric would rest against me, between my legs, in the front.  It was a lovely Autumn day.  Our bedroom window was open, the breeze was blowing through, and Eric and I were giggling over something silly as we often do together.

For some ridiculous reason, one of us released the water before Eric stood to get out.  Now, let me set the frightening visual up for you dear friends and blog readers; two large bodies with many, many folds of flesh suddenly being sucked to the inside of a bathtub (which barely contained the bodies to begin with). 
Hmm..well, this is kind of silly.  "Uh, Eric?  I do believe I'm stuck."

"Oh my gosh," Eric is laughing hysterically, "me too!"

We attempted to unpressurize ourselves but unfortunately it made the situation much worse.  Eventually, Eric's laughing stopped.  There was a bit more concern to his voice.  "Let me try to wedge myself up a little and see if that works."

For twenty minutes, Eric inched his suctioned cupped fannie upwards to see if he could get enough air between his ass cheeks and the bathtub floor in order to stand up.  Are you still with me folks?  Eric's back had a bit more flesh on it than his ass at the time.  Oh dear God in Heaven, hold on to your chair, if you haven't fallen off of it yet, you will.  After a horrifying amount of time which seemed like hours, all he managed to do was suction his back more securely to the bottom of tub.  Now his head was between my legs (Hello, Bri's vagina, I do believe we've met), with his legs cramping straight up against the shower wall with his danglie bit o' not so danglin' (remember, there was a bit of a breeze).

...And what was Bri thinking?  Why the Hell haven't I shaved my thighs for two weeks?  They look repulsive.  Sasquatch lives in Aliso Viejo, California!

Go ahead and laugh.  At the time of this horrifying incident, Mr. and Mrs. Potts had stopped seeing the humor of the situation.  With no way to reach the phone, we actually considered hollering for someone to call 911.  Oh the shame!  Imagine our mortification!! 

Obviously, we made it out of that horrifying predicament but to this day, the size of the bathtub will always be a prerequisite for any home we buy now and in the future.  Oh, and by the way, if you hear an unexpected "explosion" or the draining of water while we're conversing, that is one thing I will continue to indulge in...having a telephone right next to my bathtub.