Tub of Terror

Ok, so clearly the tub is NOT the best venue for my lady moves.  I'm splashin, laughin, hangin out (literally),  sharin my tub space.  Then, all of a sudden,  all H_ _ _  breaks loose and my once serene, happy place is turned completely into Beazelbub's lair by Anya who is clearly crazy opinionated about her splish-splash time.

My Mom says its because her Mom hates bathing and not to take it so personally, but I dunno it sounds a bit lame to me (you know like those times your Mom told you it was just an honor to be nominated or maybe they were just intimidated by your good looks and charm). Olivia also pretty much hated sharing the foray into soapy waters as well, so I'm thinking COULD IT BE ME? Then  I was like, no way dude. Has to be them. Anya seemed pretty p-o'd  by the whole situation and a pic is really worth a thousand words.

Besides totally freaking me out,  she's pretty cool to hang with though. We had some good times sharing sippy cups, rolling around on the floor and she's totally into sharing (except the bathtub and her hair which I got a kick out of pulling).

All in all, in my book, Miss Anya puts the suds in my soap.  However,  I really have to say my tub time from here on in will be my own personal ritual enjoyed by none other than me, myself and I (and my Mom and Dad and my Grandparents who like to look in sometimes).  The only chicks in my tub from now on are going to be the rubber kind that shoot water out of their mouth (well, technically those are ducks but they kind of look like chicks so give me a break okay).