I peeked behind the shower curtain, and there wasn’t a turtle or frog to be seen in the tub — just a pretty bottle of perfumed bath crystals. After a delightful afternoon of bringing each other up to date on our lives, I bade Marge good-bye. The highway stretched before me, and I slowed my speed trying to put off the inevitable. I felt vaguely sorry for myself.

No one was in the yard when I pulled in, and the dogs didn’t come out snapping at the grocery bag. It was suspiciously quiet inside the house, and I called out, “Where is everybody?” “In the bathroom,” came the reply. “Great,” I sighed. “What is it this time?”

When I went to the kitchen to deposit the groceries, it was noticeably free of dirty dishes and food morsels. “We cleaned our room and the kitchen and now we’re giving the dogs a bath,” my eldest proudly proclaimed, as I approached the bathroom wondering what was going on. Our two black Labrador retrievers were totally immersed in Soaky Fun Bubbles and, upon seeing me, leapt from the tub; two white clouds with white tails, knocked me to the sudsy floor, each bestowing “welcome home” lick on my face. The three little boys and two big dogs thought this was wonderful entertainment, and we all slipped and slid around on the bathroom floor, bubbles everywhere, laughing hysterically. I surveyed the ridiculous scene around me, and for some reason I couldn’t explain, I felt sorry for Marge. — Beliefnet.com (Concluded)