Bubbles, Bubbles Everywhere

The other day I had a bubble bath. You know, you tell one person, who tells another person, who tells another, and so on.  The only thing is I let one go and there may have let a little squeaker out.  I just hope there was enough water in the tub to get the stink out.

It all started because I got a new shower rod and didn’t have the arm strength to compress the metal tension rod enough to put it up.  So, needing to get clean, I took a bath, and the body wash I used created bubbles in the tub.  That’s what I thought it was like, anyway, when I sent back a letter and pictures from my mother, care of my sister at her workplace.  If that wasn’t bad enough, I Fed Ex’d it in an open envelope just in case my sister wanted to have a peek at it.  

It doesn’t stop there, though, because my sister is the receptionist but with COVID cutbacks she’s been reduced to part time.  So . . . there’s a good chance one of her co-workers, or her boss, or even the token office gossip may open the Fed Ex envelope and have no choice but to stack up the personal photos and letters that have spilled all over the inside of the package.  

Hmmm . . . I can only hope.

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