The Spa is Open!

I would like to make an announcement: The hot tub on my back porch is now officially open for the season. So if you have back pain, sore muscles, or just want to hang out – come on over! (This also counts for those of you who live out of state; however, I’m only offering a soak in the tub, not a place to stay.)

Perhaps you are wondering what it takes to make the tub “open for the season”.

Well, a few conditions must be met:

It must be The Season, i.e. it must be less than 60 degrees outside during the day for over two weeks. In other words, we must be into the fall. Because hanging out in a hot tub in the middle of July is just plain uncomfortable. There is nothing relaxing about lounging around sweating in hot water.

(Someone told me yesterday that they always put their kids in the hot tub with the temperature turned down during the summer. It becomes like a little pool. Hmmm, so that’s a fabulous idea that neither SRH nor I smurfed out before now. I will just say in our defense that Zane has only been with us for three years, and it took us five years of marriage to figure out that I will indeed have to throw away every piece of garbage that accumulates in our house. SRH simply isn’t up to it.)

Chemicals must be added. I imagine this is much like prepping a pool during the spring but a lot less work. Theoretically, one is supposed to “chemical up” the tub once a week. In the summer, we do it more like once a month. Today we caught ourselves – and the tub – up. There are enough chemicals in there right now to cause scaring of the lungs should one breathe in too deeply, but that should dissipate by tomorrow.

(Just to be sure, I will dip Zane’s toothbrush in the tub anon. If it melts, you’ll have to wait to come over for a few days.)

My house must be clean enough for me to allow company over.

And now perhaps you are wondering, Hey those jokers aren’t loaded, how come they have a hot tub?

And maybe you’re not wondering this, but if you grew up poor like I did, this is a legitimate question. The only people I knew who had hot tubs…well, actually hot tubs on the back deck weren’t big in the trailer park, so I didn’t know anyone until high school. But they were RICH.

The truth is that the hot tub came with the house. Well, not this hot tub. A really old one. One that was made out of wood and avocado green plastic and had about 3 jets. So, soon after we moved in, it was struck by lightening, and the homeowner’s insurance bought us a new one. Which was a somewhat lengthy process, because they kept trying to get the hot tub place to provide us with a comparable tub to the old one, which was impossible to do. There isn’t much of a market for vintage spas.

And now you may be thinking, This sounds too good to be true. There must be a catch.

No catch, I simply ask that you abide by two simple rules:

Rule One: Bring libations. It is a universal truth that a hot tub is way more fun if you bring wine or margaritas. I am not opposed to the occasional non-alcoholic drink (shout out to my peeps in rehab!), but it’s really preferable to bring something with a kick.

Rule Two: Know Yourself. If hot tubs make you and your partner feel frisky, please develop an appropriate “do it somewhere else” plan so that I can be assured that there are no heinous emissions happening in the tub. As a caveat, “somewhere else” does not mean on my deck, on my lawn, or in my house.

(Do you remember those signs that people used to hang by their pools that said, Don’t pee in my pool. I don’t swim in your toilet? As a child, I found that to be about the cleverest saying. Really. I thought it was witty, profound, and truthful. I guess my rule is similarly amusing: Don’t get naked in my hot tub. I don’t want you to.)

Anyway, we’ve got this free hot tub just waiting for folks to come over and use it.

And oh yeah, no peeing in the hot tub. I don’t swim in your toilet.