I wish you all could see the tub in this house. I don't know WHAT they were thinking when it was installed, but a seven year old girl must have been involved in the decision making because it is PINK. Technically I guess you'd say it is a rose marble, but I can't decorate my bathroom around it (much less paint the bathroom purple), so it may as well be pink. And as much as it would thrill me to rip it out and install a nice white tub, it's a large soaker tub with whirlpool jets.
Which brings me to my pending evening adventure; I still haven't figured out how to make the jets work. Here I am, all sore from my evening workout (don't get excited -- 20 measly minutes on the elliptical torture device at the Y) and dying for a good soak. Yet afraid to brave my own tub for fear the jets will defeat me again! Did ever a more pathetic creature than I roam the face of the earth?
Before it's too late, and until I write again ...
Thanks for stopping by the Boomer Blog! : ) I noticed in your comment to Eva that you are from Tulsa. I was raised in Tulsa and went to Will Rogers High School. Small world!
T. Suzanne Eller (Suzie)
Flea, I know what the problem is. The pink tub knows that you don't like its color. You must become one with the pink. Love the pink. Embrace the pink. Only then will it invite you into its whirlpool wonder.... :)
Jeni, I got the pink tub to work! It took a pair of pliers to do it, but I had two minutes of whirlpool action! The knob for the timer is missing so I couldn't tell how long I set it till too late. :) What fun!
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