The Bathtub Pillow

Queen Teen loves to lounge in her bubble bath. She stretches out, arms behind her head, feet propped against the side of the tub to keep from sliding, and sings songs as loud as she can. "This little light of mine. I'm gonna let it shine!" "Oh Mr. Sun, Sun. Mr Golden Sun. Please shine down on me." "And I say hey, HEY. What a wonderful kind of day. When you can learn to work and play. And get along with each other."

Lately though, she's complained of not being "comfy" in the tub. She says resting her head on the tub is "too hard." And so I said, "Let's find a bathtub pillow." She thought I'd made that up, but I insisted there was such a thing.

This just shows how desperate I am to keep my daughter from getting the blues in the Summer. And to prove how desperate I am, I took her to Walmart. On a Sunday. Anyone who's ever been to Walmart on a Sunday knows how desperate I must be. I hate Walmart, so I avoid it as much as possible. But finding a bathtub pillow became extremely important.

Of course, Walmart didn't have one, but Rite Aid did. A soft, cloth covered bathtub pillow. Queen Teen couldn't wait to try it out.

I made her a bubble bath and she got in, started singing, then lay back on the pillow. She shifted her weight, sat up, fluffed the pillow, lay back again, sat up again, glared at it, fluffed it some more, lay back, sat up, then announced, "I can't get comfy."

I tried moving the pillow higher on the side of the tub. No luck. Queen Teen declared it wasn't comfortable. My frustration level slowly began to rise. Do you mean to tell me I went to WALMART on a SUNDAY, fought crowds, stood in a too long line to buy a filter for my fish tank despite the fact Walmart didn't have a tub pillow, drove around town to find the damn pillow, spent good money on it, and YOU DON'T LIKE IT?

She lay back again and then said, "I can't get comfy because my feet are on the other side."

"What?"

"My feet touch the side."

I looked down at her feet and saw her toes pressed against the far side of the tub. "If you're feet didn't touch the side you'd slip."

"But they're touching the side."

"That's a good thing."

"I don't like it."

I took a VERY deep breath and said, "I think you're determined to be miserable."

She looked at me closely, pondering what I said for a moment. Then she slowly nodded her head. "Probably."