Bubbles, Bubbles, Everywhere!

bubbles

It was on the must-have list for my first apartment. For some, it was a luxury; I considered it a necessity. It was a bathtub. I know it sounds silly and simple, but it was extremely important to me. I learned early on that I’m someone who needs baths simply to revive myself. While showers offer a quicker cleansing method, baths symbolize so much more — they’re pure luxury. No matter how much or how little you may have, a bath is just pure decadence.

I grew up in a small family with an even smaller house. With just one bathroom that housed a tub situated in the center of the house, it didn’t offer much privacy. As a result, I refrained from taking baths very often. Yet, I knew I loved them. Whenever I was fortunate enough to stay in a hotel, I made sure I packed my candles, bath salts, and bubble bath. I recognized that even on my worst days a soak in a tub could do wonders for me, rejuvenating my body and mind in a way nothing else could.

So, it’s not surprising that as I searched for my first apartment, the bathroom was one of the first rooms I’d check out. Upon approval of that room, I’d move on to the rest of the place. Now, I admit the bathroom in my first apartment was quite small—long and narrow is a more precise description. Yet, it was bright and cheery, housing a window with a nice view. I decorated it in a beach theme—seashells, waves, and sand set the scene on the shower curtain. Assorted shells found their place around the room. I must say I was quite pleased with the serenity of the room.

The second week I lived in the apartment, I had a long week at work. Coming home that Friday, I was pleased to step into a quiet apartment and didn’t even stop to eat first. Instead, I immediately headed towards the tub and began to fill it with water. With bubbles overflowing from the tub as melting ice cream running down the side of a cone, I relaxed in the tub, breathing in the aroma of scented oils. I had found pure bliss! With only a few dollars to my name after paying my monthly bills, I still felt like a million dollars soaking in that the tub.

“OH NO!” My landlord’s voice exclaimed shortly after I started my soak.

“Is everything OK?” I called down to the elderly woman.

I waited for a few seconds, but she didn’t respond. Concerned, I got out of the tub, dried off, and pulled on my bathrobe. Bubbles continued to trail behind me as I walked.

“I’m coming down,” I said as I made my way down the steps from my apartment to hers.

“Oh gosh, oh gosh, stop,” I heard her mumbling.

Imaging the worst, I knocked before entering her apartment. The door was open, so I let myself in.

“I’m back here,” she said as I made my way into the apartment, following her voice.

And that’s when I discovered her dilemma: My landlord was sitting beside her bathtub, which was filled with bubbles but no water. Her attempt to catch the bubbles as they ran down the side of the tub onto her bathroom floor was to no avail. And there were bubbles everywhere! Not only had they filled the tub, they covered the floor, and she was covered in them, too. It was quite the scene, to say the least.

“I’m getting bubbles in my tub,” her faint voice stated, looking up at me from her seated position on the floor.

“Yes, you are!” I exclaimed, laughing so hard at the sight that tears were running down my face.

Seeing my reaction and realizing she was making no progress with the free- flowing bubbles, she burst into laughter, too.

We both laughed and cried as we continued our attempts to stop the bubbles.

I haven’t lived in that apartment for years now, but I do see my old landlord on occasion. As you can imagine, the bubble story is one that is recalled often. We enjoy recollecting the bubble scene with each other, and new friends and family members relish in the details of the story, too.

(photo courtesy of Neil Nockhart/Dreamstime.com)

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