#213. or, The Towel

  Honestly, there's nothing spectacular about the towel.

  I mean, we have better towels, ones you might put out when you know that you're having company over. When you could do that sort of thing. But this is not those towels. This towel is pink. Or, more accurately, pinkish. And really, the only redeeming quality it has is it's size. Which is a good quality considering the only reason we use this towel is when we use our hot tub which is, for some unknown reason, extremely rare.

  I don't know why we don't use it more?  Our hot tub is just a little 2 person one and it's kinda perfect for my wife and I. I somewhat regularly maintain it, and have replaced parts on it when needed. The only conceivable reason I can think of why we're not using it on a regular basis is that we are so far behind on PVR'd episodes of shows that we're only mildly interested in that there's just no damn time for spontaneous tranquil interludes. Well, that and when it's bitterly cold outside, our sensitive, mostly naked, pale Canadian bodies cannot endure the two and a half steps between the door and the balmy water. But, in these times, when you can't travel or can only wave longingly at your neighbours, from a safe distance, the distraction of magical bubbling waters just might be a welcome relief, so I've been making a concerted effort to try and make the time to take an evening dip.

  We have done it once this winter.

  There was a time when we used it often. We had hot tub robes, hot tub slippers, and more importantly for this story, large luxurious hot tub towels. I do not however, believe we  still own those robes,  or slippers, and I could only find one of those towels. The large pinkish towel I began this story with. But we were determined to relax even if it killed us, so we forged on. Also, my wife was unaware that I'd prepared with only just the one towel until it was time to get out and was not entirely happy about it, but until that moment, it was pretty nice. 

  Anyways.

  After drying off, I made mention that the towel, in all it's faded pinkness was a little musty smelling. That we should think about getting ourselves some fresh new hot tub towels, cause why on earth would you want to ruin the pleasant relaxing afterglow of luxuriously hot tubbing by drying yourself with some musty smelling, pinkish old towel? 

  But. 

  Later that night while I was laying in bed, I had a thought. What if that towel started it's life as just a normal clean white towel? What if there was something like being in a hot tub that loosened up all of my, "old man-ness"? What if, all of that musty pale pinkness was just sorta sluffing off of me onto the towel and it was me ruining the towel instead of the other way around? That IS kinda the way towels are supposed to work, isn't it? 

  I think, purely in the name of science, I'm gonna dig out my flip flops, and start hot tubbing with a mojito and a cigar to see if I start putting off some new beachy vibe. Maybe I can have my wife buy a new brightly coloured beach towel. Just to see which one of us is rubbing off on the other.

  Wouldn't it be nice, say in a year or two, I could start a post, Honestly. this is a spectacular towel!

  And know full well,

  .........it was me that rubbed off on the towel instead of the other way around?