As part of the battle against Kate's eczema, I've been bathing her in a concoction that involves unscented castille soap, heavy cream, honey and 1 drop of lavender essential oil. I fill her tub with tepid water and this bath and it feels sooooo niiiiice. I like to hang my hands in her bath while she's splashing it all out onto the floor because the water just feels so soft, almost...fluffy. Kind of the way I imagine Rick James keeps his bed. I never seem to have time to take one of these baths myself, despite always feeling tempted to climb in the tub with Kate.
Last night, I made time. We'd just finished watching a movie and since it wasn't a school night, I opted to stay up late (read: after 10PM). There was a fair amount of cream & honey bath left from Kate's last bath in the fridge, so I filled our jetted tub and when the whole bathroom was steamy, I greedily dumped in all of the remaining bath stuff and a drop of lavender oil. I warmed up the neck wrap Chris & Sonya sent for my birthday, grabbed my fabulous spa robe Steve gave me for Christmas and prepared to ease into the lap of luxury. It did require easing because I'd used exceptionally hot water. I know it's bad for my skin but I don't care. Ah, the fluffy water and it's all mine! I turned on the jets.
It was at this point that I realized water as hot as the water heater is set... curdles milk. Almost instantly, big cauliflower head-shaped piles of yellowish foam surrounded me, gathering mostly at my feet and behind my back. This might not have been so disturbing had the movie we just watched not been Slither (most enjoyable, I highly recommend it). It began to cling to the sides of the tub. I would not be dissuaded! I would RELAX! When Peeping Jeremiah stepped in he found me striking the sexiest pose I could manage while skimming cottage cheese off the bathwater and tossing it (with dubious success) into the little trash can next to the tub. What with the honey, this stuff clung to everything in sight. To my surprise and delight, Jeremiah did not recoil in disgust (reason # 243 on the "why he's a keeper" list). He said something like "so that happened" and, smiling sweetly, backed slowly out of the room.
I made it about 10 minutes in the giant bowl of spoiled milk before I relented and had to get that stuff off me. I plucked the plug off the drain with my toe and very carefully stood up in the dangerously slick tub. Reflecting sourly on how not relaxing cleaning the bathtub after this was going to be, I turned on the shower. Now I know that the amount of water that fits in my tub is only slightly more than the amount of water that fits in our water heater. To muffled cries of "SON OF [redacted] [redacted][redacted][redacted]..." I showered all the goop off me with the icy cold water. Then I cleaned the tub. Aaaaahhhh, just what the doctor ordered. I must say, though, my skin felt fantastic!
At last I collapsed, exhausted, into bed where my sweetie uttered the words every wife longs to hear - "You smell like Greek yogurt".