Have you ever had a bad day at school? Did the class bully push you around? How do you deal with it? A bubble bath of course!
 
 
Splish Splash!
By
grover
 

Disclaimer: This is fiction so please treat it as such. Mr. Bubbles is a trademark that is used without permission but no slander is intended. Many thanks to Holly Logan and Sephrena Miller for their help in making this readable!
 
 
Paul struggled though the kitchen back door half dragging his book bag. Cursing his small size, he half threw-half lifted his bag onto the table. Wincing at the bang, he hoped his Mom hadn't heard. If he was lucky he could change in the laundry room and keep his current sorry state of affairs to himself. That hope was dashed as she cleared her throat behind him.

Mary Noel wondered what had happened to her son this time. He was mostly covered in mud and it looked if his shirt was torn. She knew it was hard on him starting at a new school, but also knew that no matter what had happened, he would just say he fell. Her husband Peter was a good man and husband, but he couldn't completely hide his disappointment in his son's small stature and lack of anything reassembling athletic ability. Peter had been a real jock in school but hadn't let that turn him into a jerk. One of their first fights had been over Paul starting growth hormones. Sighing, “Paul what happen?”

Turning to face his Mom, Paul guiltily looked at the somewhat clean shoes that he had carefully wiped before coming in so he wouldn't leave incriminating tracks. “Hmmm... I fell, Mom. I'm sorry.” He was really hoping she would leave it at that and he would not have to tell her about getting jumped by Jack the Dragon again. Paul had nicked named him ‘The Dragon’, after reading Tolkien's “Hobbit” because Jack reminded him of Smaug. Jack had been held back not once but twice, so he towered over the rest of his fifth grade classmates. Paul who was the smallest of them all had become the dragon's favorite punching bag.

She knew he wasn't telling her the entire truth. Mary suspected that Paul was being victimized by a bully. The problem was, Mary wasn't sure what to do about it. Her jock husband's advice to, "Stand up for yourself and fight back!" doesn't work when you are under a hundred pounds. She felt that was at least part of the reason why her son was being evasive. If she pressed him she could get him to confess but that wouldn't solve the problem.

“If you said you fell, then you fell, but if this happens one more time I'm going to have to get involved, understand?”

Paul tried not to let his relief show. Having to sit though another of his Dad's “You just punch him out and he won't bother you anymore” speeches. Just how was he supposed to do that? Jack was over a foot taller than he was. Paul knew his Dad was frustrated with him for not following his instructions, but he couldn't help it!

“Yes Mom, I'll be more careful next time.”

She folded her arms, feeling the situation with Paul was coming to a head. Peter, the big lunk, was at a loss at what to do. Just like always, when faced with a problem his brains couldn't solve he fell back on bulling his way though. It might work fine on a construction site, but not for problems involving undersized 11 year olds.

“Alright young man, you better get cleaned up before your father gets home. I'll go ahead and wash your clothes, so you had better hop in the bath.”

Paul was ecstatic to be let off the hook this time. “Mom, would a bubble bath be okay?”

She kept her face from smiling back at her son. He had always enjoyed playing with the bubbles, and she had never had the troubles with him that his sister Jackie had given her about baths. It was another omen of the looming trouble with Peter was he thought Paul was too old for bubbles, but had carefully avoided calling it girly in her hearing. He did ask her to stop buying it, and when the last was gone no more would be forthcoming and as a compromise she had agreed. She and Paul had rationed what was left with a miser’s hand. The fact he had asked for it, demonstrated to her more than anything else, that her son, had indeed had a bad day.

“Just as long as you remember that when this bottle is empty there isn't anymore. Yes, you may have a bubble bath.”

Grinning, he quickly ran to the laundry. Mom made Dad change downstairs in there so he wouldn't bring his “Construction site into her living room.” Now, everyone kept extra changes in there to keep from tracking dirt into the house when extra dirty. While hopping on one foot, pulling up his shorts he dropped his muddy clothes in the laundry sink.

Mary started her son's bath, sad that Peter had a point. Paul was growing up and was getting too old for her to baby like she used to. Reaching for the Mr. Bubbles bottle, she was surprised when it felt empty. Had Paul used it all up and not told her she wondered. But that didn't feel right. Suspicious, she tried to open the bottle and had her intuition confirmed when she found she couldn't open the bottle. "Peter Noel!" She swore.

Her husband always over tightened lids and caps, and it didn't take long for her to guess her husband had welched on their compromise. He must have poured the rest out, Argh! Well, two can play that game. She thought they might have some more bubble bath downstairs in the basement where all the yet to be unpacked boxes were being hidden.

As Mary headed for the basement, ‘Oh husband of mine we are going to have a little talk!’ “Paul rinse off your stuff in the sink, I'll be right back.”

Paul answered, “Sure, Mom.” He was washing the gritty dirt down the drain when his eye caught the pink of some of his sister's stuff peeking out of a basket on top of the dryer. Woefully he looked down in the sink at the results of Jack the Dragon pushing him into a mud puddle. It wasn't enough for him to be picked on for being the new kid and being small. Looking over at the so soft flash of pink, he began to wonder if he had even bigger problems. More and more, Paul was feeling that somewhere, somehow he had ended up a boy, when he should've been a girl. Thinking about the troubles with he was having with his Dad right now, he shuddered, considering how Dad would react to news like that!

Mary, watching her step, descended into the cluttered basement. They'd had a pre-closing house inspection that testified that dangers such as termites and radon gas weren't present, but she still smelled something down there. Jackie and Paul said they thought they smelled something as well, but didn't know what... Peter had given them all a patronizing look and said he didn't smell a thing.

Thinking of him reminded her why she was down here in the dungeon. There it was, right there on the shelf, Mr. Bubbles. To her surprise, it was an older looking box, rather than the bottles she always bought, which meant it was something that had somehow been left behind by the previous occupants. The box was just like new, and hadn't even been opened, just an older style. As much as she wanted to shove her beloved husband's face into his high handedness, she wasn't about to endanger Paul. Checking, she saw no signs of tampering or damage to the package at all; no expiration date or shelf-life status was printed on it either.

Opening the box, she sniffed, finding only the familiar scent, and it wasn't caked or anything. Mary, chewing on a lip, decided she would test it first before letting Paul try it, but only because she knew how much he was looking forward to this. Going back up the stairs, she made a promise to herself that Paul would have an entire case tomorrow, right after Peter, unknown to him, got up from the couch where he was going to be sleeping tonight. Shutting the door behind her as she turned off the light, she missed seeing the brilliant pink luminescent ooze that lit up the basement walls.

Paul finished, and tossed the wet clothes into the washer. Making a supreme effort he passed Jackie's stuff without touching it, thinking instead of his coming bubble bath. Bubble bath, Yay! Almost skipping up the stairs, he hurried because he knew they were on the clock. Jackie would be home from school soon, and it was possible she would snitch on them. She had become almost impossible to live with since she started high school, as if that changed anything. He ran into his room to grab clean clothes and then charged to the bath.

Mary followed the directions on the box and almost had second thoughts on seeing just how pink these bubbles were, WOW! She still didn't smell anything but the normal scent, and tested it with her hand. Okay, no irritation or discoloration. Hearing Paul run in, “Young man, you know better than that. No running in the house! Here, put your hand in the suds. If it feels odd, or starts to burn, take it out at once, Okay?”

“Whoa! Now those are bubbles!” They were so pink they seemed to glow. “Sure Mom! Just like with any new shampoo, right? You test it first, and if it's okay, you go ahead and use it. Are you sure this is Mr. Bubbles?” he asked, half afraid that it might be something of Jackie's. If it was, she would be sure to tell Dad, but he knew he'd had enough for two more baths.

She smiled, thinking he was afraid of the girl aspects of using his sister's stuff, although as pink as this stuff was, she would think any male would run for the hills! “No burning, nothing odd?

“No Mom, it's fine.” . He enjoyed the feel of the bubbles and blew them into the air.

“Fine, but if you start to feel anything, get out immediately and call me, understand?” She gave her son a stern glance as she left him. ‘They do grow up so fast’ she sighed as she closed the door.

“Yes, Mom,” Paul rolled his eyes at her back and gleefully splashed into the pink wonderland. Bubbles flew everywhere, as if they had a life of their own. Shooting the door a distrusting eye, he used the bubbles to give himself a bubble hairdo and breasts. It was fun to imagine himself as a her, but the tingling of the bath felt so good after being chilled by his mud bath that he lowered himself down until he was almost submerged in pink. With a smile he closed his eyes while the stresses of the day were swallowed up by pink bubbles.

Mary checked the clock. That son of hers had been up there for nearly a hour. Getting up, she went to chase him out of his bubbles, for the rest of the family would be home soon. Knocking on the door, she called, “Paul, come on and get out now. Everyone is going to be home soon.”

Paul's eyes shot open in alarm. ‘Oh no, I dozed off!’ He clumsily got out of the tub, noticing the bubbles were no longer as pink as before. Feeling a little odd, he toweled off and wondered if he had stayed in too long, for his skin was really tender. “I'm drying off now, Mom!”

Her eyebrows rose, ‘That didn't sound like Paul!’ Taking a deep breath, she knew she should've checked on him earlier. Now he would be embarrassed because she would have to check to ensure he was alright. “Paul I'm coming in to make sure you're okay.”

“Mom!” Paul protested as his Mom walked in.

Mary eyes boggled, “Who are you? Where's Paul?”

There was no sign of her son, just this girl standing there. She was a small, about Paul's height, but with longer, lighter colored hair. Her eyes looked a lot like her daughter Jackie's, except green instead of blue. The expression on the girl's face was one of shock and confusion. That was pure Paul.

‘It couldn't be,’ she thought. ‘Paul was having a bath … Paul disappears … and leaves this girl behind that looks just like his sister at his age.’

“Paul?” she asked uncertainly.

Paul stood there wondering what was wrong with his Mom. Why didn't she know him?

“Yes, Mom. It's me. What's wrong?” he asked, turning to look into the mirror to find out what his Mom was looking at.

Her eyes flew opened in disbelief. That’s me!,’ she thought, touching her face.

The Mr. Bubble box sitting on the sink counter caught her attention. In bold type it read, “Mr. Bubble gets you so clean your mother won't know you, Copyright 1963.”

In a daze, she looked down, “Yep, cleaned it right off.”

There was a thump as her Mom slumped unconscious onto the bathroom floor.

 

The End