So you know Andy has been sick all week, and I've had some weird semblance of sickness. Just enough to make me feel rotten, but not enough (unfortunately) to be hospitalized for a couple of days, with meals brought to me and nightly turn down service.
The other night, at the height of Andy's malaise, I suppose he had the great idea that a soak in our nice big tub was just what the Dr. ordered. Except he decided to do it right after dinner. Which is when the three small ones get their baths. So I got all the kids stripped down and started to run their bath water and discovered that, unless they were to be the newest members of the polar bear club, they probably would not appreciate the frigid bath which was the result of all the hot water having been recently used up.
I hollered downstairs and asked Andy if he'd been running hot water and he hollered back "Yeah, a little."
I walked downstairs to find him in a huge tub of toasty bubbles, reading his new ESPN magazine. "Bad timing, buddy. Here ya go." And I slid the first and youngest of three children into his bubble bath. There went his spa experience.
Stuart took about a 15 second bath, Andy had a 20 second one and then William and Catherine were left to swim laps in the tub. I sent Andy back into his oasis with the kids' goggles, some floaties, and flippers and told him he was on lifeguard duty.
If he'd only waited a little longer...