I think I need to start taking more baths
We have a Jacuzzi tub in our “primary bedroom” (because the term “master bedroom” is on its way out—another thing that got cancelled in 2020), and it got a lot of use way back when my son was three to four years old and bath time was a hands-on daily event. We’d throw a little bubble bath in there and he’d be surrounded by suds—which understandably was a sh*t-ton of fun for him. (If you ever went to a foam party as a grown-up, you totally get it.)
About a year and a half ago, I decided I really wanted to take a bath and I had a perfect window of opportunity. I filled the tub, added some sort of fancy bath milk or salts, inflated my suction-mounted pillow, climbed in and pressed the “on” button for the jets. I could have never been prepared for what happened next, and it was one of my most traumatic self-care experiences of my entire life. (Getting a Brazilian wax at J. Sisters in NYC still takes the cake.) As soon as the jets started whirring, black gunk came flooding into the water I was submerged in up to my neck. Despite the time that had elapsed since the tub’s last use, it was being cleaned weekly by my former housekeeper. (Yes, I’m still bitter.) I never expected her to get all into the jets with a scrub brush similar to the one I use for our reusable water bottles, but in retrospect I probably should have asked her to.
I have taken one bath (sans jets) since, and then last week I scrolled upon Oh, Yuk in one of those “Insanely Useful Amazon Products You Need that You Never Heard About” Buzzfeed articles that I can’t get enough of a few days ago. Needless to say, I bypassed adding to cart and went straight to “Buy Now.”
The Oh, Yuk arrived last week and I couldn’t wait a second to try it. I filled the tub with hot water, added four ounces of solution, turned on the jets and waited for the magic to happen. Much to my surprise (although you can see what came out), it was less of a gunk return than I expected. (Probably because all of it washed over my body a year and a half ago.) Somewhat skeptical of the results, I went in for round two. (My husband suggested I go for a third and I told him to do it himself if he so desired.)
I obviously had to clean the tub afterwards (which wasn’t all that bad), but now it’s primed and ready for a solid soak—and I know I can use the jets without fear of being accosted by whatever that disgusting stuff was comprised of.
Now the question is, do I go for the Le Labo Santal 33 Bath Grains I snagged from a hotel in Montreal four years ago (only available via theft), the Elemis Skin Nourishing Milk Bath or the plain-old Epsom salts?
