First, let me tell you straight-up that this is almost definitely not the blog post you might expect from the title. Yes, my husband and I were on an anniversary getaway at the time, and yes, the Jacuzzi tub was built to accommodate two. But it wasn’t my husband who joined me there.
(And no, it’s not that kind of blog post, either, so behave. 😉 )
Second, let me set the stage a little bit before we get to the adventure. Hubby and I celebrated our 28th anniversary this past weekend, and I arranged a two-night stay for us a couple of hours away. I booked us into a gorgeous older hotel room with a king-sized bed, a fireplace, and an ensuite bathroom with a claw-foot tub. I looked forward to a soak in that tub for weeks.
Unfortunately, on arrival, we found that room unavailable. The hotel had discovered a rather large wasp nest outside the window, and a few of the critters were finding their way inside, so we were upgraded to a queen suite. Also unfortunately, that sounds nicer than it actually was. The suite was charming enough in its own way (it did have a fireplace and a small balcony off the bedroom), but the tub was the shallow old variety–goodbye, soak!–and you had to stand sideways to spit into the laughably small, narrow sink. Add to that hubby’s propensity for rolling over onto me in his sleep (we have a king-sized bed at home), and you can imagine how disinclined I was to spend a second night there.
All was not lost, however. Another king room had become available, and so we were transferred to that instead–and on visiting, we discovered it to be another suite with a huge bedroom
a living room with a gas fireplace
and an enormous bathroom with an even more enormous Jacuzzi tub!
This was much more in keeping with an anniversary getaway I’d planned, and I was beyond thrilled.
We ended up getting in from dinner too late to enjoy the tub that night, but I was determined to have my soak, and so I got up the next morning at 6:00 a.m., left hubby snoozing, filled the tub with bubbles, and settled in with my e-reader. 
And THAT, my friends, is where the bathtub adventures begin.
So there I am, up to my neck in bubbles, enjoying the peace and quiet, and I am in heaven. I’m facing the window, watching the sky grow lighter. Not another soul is stirring in the entire hotel. The water temperature is perfect. And then, from the overflow drain below the taps to my right, THIS suddenly emerges, wildly waving its hundred or more arms/legs, and drops into the bubbles by my knees.
Well.
I don’t think I’ve ever moved that fast in my life. Or at least, I tried to move fast.
Have you any idea how hard it is to climb out of a soapy, slippery tub when you’re in full-blown panic mode? I kept sliding back in–to where that thing was. Waves of water sloshed over the edge, flooding the hardwood floor. A part of my brain tried to remind me that panicking wouldn’t help, but the screams of my inner voice (to my credit, I didn’t give actual voice to the shrieks) drowned it out.
It took me four tries to get clear.
And then I had to find the cursed thing.
I drained half the tub, swept away most of the bubbles, and eventually found it (mercifully dead) at the bottom. With a little effort and a lot of squeamishness, I managed to fish it out with the bathroom glass. Then I refilled the tub, mopped up the floodwaters (it took two towels to do so…I can only imagine what the hotel staff thought when they found the soggy mound after we left 😛 ), and gingerly–oh, so gingerly!–returned to my tub.
Thankfully, I remained alone for the rest of my soak.
And yes, you can bet your sweet patootie this scenario will find its way into a book soon. 😉
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