Live on location

Posted: March 11, 2013 in Humour



I have always been a fan of the term ‘live on location’. There seems to be a little more drama, a little more excitement, even a little more panache. When shows are done live on location, anything goes.

That said, I have decided to type this week’s article ‘live on location’. I am currently writing this ‘live from my bathtub’. Cover your eyes, people. I have used plenty of bubble bath, mind you, but still, being modest, I feel I should warn you that if you see me starting to stand up to get the shampoo, please try averting your eyes by looking at the various ads on this page until I sit back down, nicely tucked into the bubble castle I’ve been building.

This is so exciting. I have my tunes, my aromatherapy candles, my phone, my cell phone, and of course, my handy-dandy laptop. It’s kind of awkward typing this as I am doing it one-handed, because my laptop is sitting on the toilet so I don’t drop it in the tub. I had considered having Alex type it while I dictate, but since he didn’t want to see my naked in the bathtub, that option is out. What a wimp.  It’s actually fortunate for those of you out there that read slowly, as I am typing this slowly… so it’s win-win!

Where do we start? Let’s see…..well, I have so many bubbles in here that I can’t find my damned rubber ducky. Woops. There he is. I was sitting on him. Okay.

From my vantage point, I can see my dogs in the hallway, staying strategically far enough away from the bathtub so they don’t get themselves bathed. I can’t say that I blame them there. It’s a very real threat. They may be dogs, but they aren’t stupid dogs.

The dangerous part of doing a ‘live on location’ article, of course, is the unexpected and unplanned for events that can happen. Like the chocolate-covered peanuts I just dropped in the tub. I have to make sure they go down the drain or Anne might think I had a little ‘event’ while bathing. We can’t have that. And now the doorbell rings! Good gravy! Go away, whoever you are, can’t you see that I am working!!

Now the phone is ringing. Yes!! It’s my father! I can interview him for this piece. ‘Dad!’ I say, ‘Now that you’ve decided which of your children is your favourite, are you perhaps worried that my other siblings will be mad that it is me?’ ‘What?’ he asks. He sounds confused. He knows I’m up to something. I have to throw him off my scent if I want to get a good quote for the paper. ‘Dad,’ I say, ‘your favourite child wants to know if you feel the feeling?’ ‘Uh….I think so…’ he responds, then hangs up. Well, not such a good quote. But it’s all good!

I have just now, right this minute, received a text on my cell phone. Let’s, dear readers, look at said text and see what it says. ‘Bill, did you put supper in the oven like you were supposed to? I hope so, because I have homework to do tonight, and I’m starving….Love, Rouge xxx ooo.’ Hmmmm.  Let’s see…it’s 5pm, Anne is on her way home, and wouldn’t you know it….I forgot the supper thing. Okay, so here we have one of those aforementioned ‘unexpected, unplanned for’ events. Mathematically, it can be describes as: 1 Red Head + Promised Supper Chore x (forgotten oven turning-on + homework to do) = Trouble for me. Well. I wonder if the flower shop is still open?

It looks like I’m going to have to pull the plug, pardon the pun, on this ‘live on location’, dry myself off, and go break the oven so that I have an excuse for not getting supper going. I must not forget the peanuts in the bottom of the tub. Goodnight, everybody….this is Bill, signing off from the bathtub!! Quack, quack!!


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