As I was taking a bath last night, Kevin came in to tell me something. He stopped short, pointed to the floor and said, "What is all this water doing on the floor?" There was quite a large amount of it near the door. I added, "That's really weird. The last time I took a bath there was water on the floor just like that. But I thought it was because I had rinsed the bubbles off with a shower and not put the curtain in the tub."
We dried everything off, dollar signs flashing before our eyes, thinking of every possible way the water could have leaked out of the tub. With everything dry we watched. Searching for the source of the escaping water. He checked for cracks on the outside, I checked on the inside. Nothing. I was really starting to believe a new tub was in our future when Kevin suggested that maybe I had sloshed it out. What a ridiculous idea. I am not a preschooler from which water seems naturally prone to jump out of the tub onto the floor. I had not been splashing or rough housing in my sanctuary of water. To prove my point I declared, "I don't think so. The only thing I've done is lay down just...like...this...."
As I watched the water cascade over the edge of the tub due to the displacement of water by my quick entry and Kevin's smile broaden, I decided to keep sinking into the warmth as to delay the taunting I would surely receive upon surfacing.
It was the right move.