It Must Be Love

The day after Minnesota Brass's big DCA win, Andrew, E, L, and I headed west to Niagara Falls. It was a quick trip (less than a full 24 hours) and I was the only one of us that hadn't been to the Falls.

We arrived at our hotel on the Canadian side in the early afternoon. The room had a prominent feature:

It helps to have a wide-angle lens!

Is it important to know that about six years ago, E and Andrew lived in an apartment with really big bathtubs? And that everytime they gave a tour of the apartment, E and I would pile into the tub to show how big it was? Probably not.

We had ourselves a little bit of fun.

Okay, a lot of fun.

After our little photo session, E began lamenting over the state of their laundry. Rochester had been excessively hot and humid during their long weekend of rehearsals. Not only was their laundry smelly, it was damp, and it was going to have to sit another day before they could get it washed. Yuck.

E started talking about sending it out in the hotel laundry service. Has he ever looked at hotel laundry prices? They're obscene, especially given the volume of laundry that he had—more than a full machine load. It would have cost a small fortune. I didn't want to go through the drama of that discovery—I just didn't. It seemed smarter to me to hand wash as much as we could. After all, I had an economy size bottle of shampoo with me...

And it clicked. I looked at the whirlpool tub and thought of the way the jets agitate the water.

"We could use the tub!"

I'm not sure how to else to explain the feeling of these moments, other than to say I feel euphoric. That seems so idiotic, doesn't it? To feel such excitement over hand washing some stinky gym shorts? But it was a clever solution and I do so love being clever; and I've found the best way to get everyone else on board with an idea is to be absolutely convinced that the idea will work.

And it did work! It was mad as a March hare, of course, but it worked like a charm. We filled the tub, added the shampoo and let the jets whip up a froth.

It cleaned the clothes quite nicely. When the socks threatened to clog up the drain, we drafted a white plastic Kleenex holder to stand in as a barrier.

We laughed. Oh, how we laughed! I knew then, as I sat on the wet tile floor, that no matter how spectacular the Falls were, that silly tub was going to be the highlight of my trip.

I miss my friends so badly. You know you love someone when you'll voluntarily spend your vacation washing his underwear.

We did see the Falls eventually.