The Fart in the Bucket

A few years ago I quite fancied the idea of a spa pool when Beloved informed me that he had just hit the "Buy Now" on a Trademe cheapie. It was just a matter of going to get it. I was prepared for the 45 minute trip each way. What I wasn't prepared for was the three hours labour required to dismantle it in the blazing mid-summer heat. It was a bit clumsy bringing it home too and Beloved couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the inorganic collection on the side of the road. Beloved had also implied that the spa would be up and running in next to no time. I should have known better. We'd had a similar experience with a chicken coop only that was four hours labour and all we ended up with was a pile of firewood left to rot in our back yard for a couple of years. It was money down the loo and I really think these people should have been paying US to do their work.

So the defunct spa pool sat outside our laundry window for weeks. Weeks became months and which eventually stretched into a couple of years. I think he eventually flicked the thing off to another unsuspecting buyer on Trademe, only they didn't have to dismantle anything. It was gone within five minutes.

We also have some carpet rolled up in our garage that I bought from a friend. It was in excellent condition and just the colour for our house. Three years later and it's still sitting there with hay bales and some of Beloved's Trademe junk cluttering it. I don't know if it will ever be unravelled.

So you'll appreciate why I was cynical when Beloved announced that we'd buy another spa. He assured me that this time it would be the real deal. It didn't help that he started trawling Trademe again. Once again he hit the Buy Now on a bargain.  I told him I wanted no part of it so he took M with him to drag it home. It was a portable Softub which he fitted in very nicely on the lower front deck in FULL view of the entire neighbourhood. I quickly formed an opinion:

"That thing is like comparing a lounge suite to a bean bag! That thing is not a spa pool, it's a Fart in a Bucket. There is no way I'm getting into that thing" I was even less impressed with the front row seats offered to my neighbours.

Eventually I succommed and gave it a try, secretly. In the dark, so that the neighbours wouldn't see. It wasn't too bad. It has four jets and if you hold your hands in front of them you can even get a bit of upper body work out. It's nice and warm and I have to admit that I quite like it.  I've googled it to see how we can make it look nicer. Check this out:

The Softub will make you HAPPY! It will save your marriage!! You can tip water over your husband's head and he'll be too happy to get mad.

The Softub is inside the house! And look how happy the people are. See how she laughs as she pours a watering can over her partner's head. That looks like so much fun!

I don't think it would be so much fun to clean up after playing with watering cans and a Softub in the house so we'll keep it is for now and I'll just keep sneaking out after dark. There are a couple of downsides though. We have no shelter from rain but I've gotten round that by holding a sheet of polystyrene over my head during inclement weather. Clever huh?

The other hitch was when I forgot about a meeting at our neighbouring school and just as I was about to get out, a heavy flow of traffic streamed past my house. Not wanting to give passing motorists and children an eyefull, I had to stay hidden under water for an extra 45 minutes.

Farts and Burps

I mentioned that we have two foster boys, brothers aged 10 and 12 who have become part of our family over the last 10 months. Being a caregiver is certainly not all romantic good deeds. But I thought I'd share my "settling" technique:

Day 1: Everyone sitting around the dinner table - slightly uncomfortable.

Problem: Things are frosty and the ice needs to be broken. It's quite possible that the boys have never sat at a dinner table before and they need to become familiar with the etiquette required for such a situation.

Solution: Angela - the big-hearted caregiver extraordinaire - finishes meal and releases her best possible burp (actually, it wasn't that impressive but it sufficed for the situation), does a victory dance and announces, "I won!"

From that moment the competition was on and the after meal burp has become tradition - not that my own children will participate. They were mortified from the onset. Anyway, this has become a serious competition with rules such as, the participant must be at the table, touching the table cloth in order to qualify. I'll bet you were surprised just now when I mentioned that we have a table cloth. New Zealanders are very sophisticated you know. It's navy blue and plastic with melty bits and encrusted food but it is a tablecloth.

Now about the farts...I have a funny fart story. I'm pretty sure that EVERYONE has a funny fart story because farts are funny! If there's anyone who thinks that God doesn't have a sense of humour then they should ponder why he made us with a fart-function. I don't think I'll tell my fart story just yet. You should get to know me a little better first...