Shooting Stars....

Stressful week. What better way to unwind than to draw a hot bath. At this point I would like to state that I have never understood the phrase "draw a bath". But upon looking up the definition of "draw" it seems to be accurate so I therefore tell you that I decided to draw a bath.

As the very hot water filled my reasonable clean tub I lit some candles, one can not relax under fluorescence after all, and poured myself a glass of wine. I was recently given Bath Confetti in the shape of stars. What a lovely thing to add to one's bath, small multi-color star shaped, paper thin,scented, soap. It was at this point that I attempted to open, by candle light, the small cylinder shaped container holding these stars. With much frustration and loud explanations of how this should not be a difficult thing to accomplish I finally grabbed scissors to aid me in this opening endeavor. A quick cut and the wrapping was removed. Back to the bathroom where the tub was quickly filling up. Now to slide of the end cap of the cylinder housing these enchanted stars. Sealed shut. Human nails could not splice the seal. Teeth could not slide it off. Scissors were once again fetched and used to stab the end of the cylinder.

Now there was a whole in the tube but still no stars were able to escape to meet their hot and watery end. Stab again, and cut into in order to pry off the cap. This I am pleased to say worked. However the process of prying off the stopper resulted in shooting stars being flung everywhere. Stars in the tub, stars on the floor stars in on my lazily discarded clothes, stars on my hair brush. Sighing I ignored the mess I made and got into the tub.

This is when I realized that the stars look pretty when floating delicately atop the waters surface. However when these stars, made of paper thin soap, come into contact with human skin they instantly adhere and half dissolved look like multi-colored snot on one's skin. Once the water started to cool I stepped out of the tub, forgetting the fallen stars on the floor. These then stuck to the bottom of my wet pruney feet rubbing into the bathmat and making gooey mess as I stepped onto the tiled bathroom floor.

I wiped my feet on the bathmat to remove the goo and ignored the mess. Brushing my teeth this morning I looked around the bathroom. Not a pretty site. My relaxing bath has now resulted in an morning after un-fun clean up. The thought had occurred to me to leave it. Its soap after all, but my mother's voice came into my head telling me how this was not an acceptable way to clean my bathroom.