I’m at the Wynn Hotel in Vegas. Yes, a guy is sharing my room. No, he is not my boyfriend. And in case you don’t believe me (as most people don’t) I can prove it… I’m in a bubble bath, alone,  at 7am and he did not sleep here last night. But that’s not what I want to discuss. Can we please talk about this bathtub? I LOVE taking baths, so when I saw the massive tub in this room I was counting the minutes until I was going to use the entire bottle of BAM BU (with a – over the “U”, very fancy) shower gel, fill the tub to the top, and sink into a relaxing Zen state.

Nope.  Didn’t quite happen that way. Yes, I used the whole bottle of shower gel. Yes, I surrounded myself in sudsy bubbles. Yes, the water was just the right temperature. BUT, I’m 5’4″ and 109 pounds. The tub was so big it was like being on a slip n slide. I even stuffed a towel behind me in the hopes that my toes would reach the other side and be able to stabilize me. No luck. After nearly drowning twice, I wound up turning 90 degrees. Oh, I was stable now with my legs scrunched up and my back sticking out of the water. This was so unfair! The tub was mocking me for bathing alone. I’m thinking of inventing two things for the tub: 1. a length adjuster that you can put at one end and extend to fit your size.  2. a contraption that sits under your boobs and armpits then comes up and over the sides of the tub to hold your body up, should you get so relaxed and fall asleep that it prevents you from drowning.

Or… I could just find a man to share this tub with.

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