Sunday night is bath night for me, and I elect to take it in the whirlpool tub. Caregiver helps me in and we put up the retractible side. Big argument. I want water 105 degrees, and she wants to fill it with 98 degree water.
"Too hot," she says.
"It is a HOT tub: it is supposed to be hot." At 82 you can be pretty stubborn and I win and I settle back in nice warm water. The care giver leaves. As soon as the water reaches the jets, I turn on the whirlpool. Ahh. Oh, oh.
Bubbles. Bubbles begin building up. In a moment I look like Marilyn Monroe in a tub scene, covered with bubbles. I laugh, good joke, someone put bubble bath in hot tub. The bubbles reach my arm pits. I luxuriate.
The jets continue and the bubbles reach five feet high. Now I look like Jack Lemmon in Mr. Roberts, when the laundry aboard ship blew up and covered him with suds. I could have filled the room with suds, but I turned off the whirlpool. Now the caregiver returns, gasps, and calls her supervior.
I laugh and tell the supervisor that someone put bubble bath in the spa. Supervisor inspects the controls and says, "That is not bubble bath That is the disinfectant we use to clean the spa between bathers. You took a bath in disinfectant."
They hose me off with plain water, and I go home singing a kids' song.
"There may be bugs on some of you mugs,
But there ain't no bugs on me."