overflow

I accidentally let my bathtub overflow tonight.

It started out innocently enough. I was growing impatient as I waited for the ginger-white peach ice cream I was making in my new ice cream maker to finish churning, so I decided to take a bubble bath to distract myself. I love bubble baths. I take them far more often that I imagine other adults do. At least a few per week. I soak with a book and return to the world a cleaner, happier and much more relaxed person.

Anyway, I started the bath and then decided to check Facebook while the tub filled. Not much doing there, so I checked my Gmail. Nothing interesting, so I logged onto Twitter for a few minutes...and then I remembered to check the tub. Honestly, I was positive that I still had a few more minutes before the bath would be high enough, but I was wrong. So very wrong. My bathroom looked like a mid-size water park. The water flowed dangerously close to the door. My bathmats were soaked and, within seconds, so were my bare feet.

I shut off the water and scurried down the hall, groping for towels to soak up the minor disaster spreading on my bathroom floor. I mopped and dried and blotted and scrubbed. I soaked my t-shirt and the ends of my hair as I carried the heavy wet towels to the laundry basket. I jogged to the laundromat with waterlogged bathmats over my shoulder in an attempt to get them into the dryer before the laundromat closed at 10 PM.

It was such a brainless, stupid thing to do, letting the tub overflow. If I had thought to check the water five minutes (hell, two minutes) earlier, I could have avoided this annoying disruption of my evening.

But I'm letting it go. After all, as Big Bird says, everyone makes mistakes.