William Howard Taft’s Internal Monologue After Getting Stuck in the Presidential Bathtub.

The hell of it is, I knew this thing was too small.  I looked at it, and I said, “William, you are taking a risk here.”  But I do love baths, and you know what?  I earned it.  The Panama Canal?  That thing isn’t building itself.  After a long day on my feet, I want to soak for a little bit.

You know I’m a sucker for a well-made bathtub.  The ornamentation on this thing!  It’s one of those that looks like it has the little feet on it.  I wonder what the story behind that is.  For me, it’s just fun.  I used to like to imagine those little feet could come to life and carry me around everywhere.  I would never have to leave my bathtub.  I guess I should have been careful what I wished for though, because now it looks like that could become a reality.

I knew I was stuck as soon as I sat down.  I thought maybe the warm water made my body expand slightly, so I waited for it to cool down.  The bath is luke-warm now, and guess what.  Still stuck.

I’ve been shouting for help.  I figure the best thing to shout is probably, “Could someone come in here?”  Once someone is in the bathroom, I can delicately explain to them that I’m stuck in this tub.  I just don’t feel like shouting it.

I tried to rock the tub too.  I thought maybe I could just spill out onto the floor like some sort of sea creature.  I think the claw feet are bolted to the floor though.

The really embarrassing thing is, I used to toilet before I got into the tub.  And I didn’t flush it.  I always just flush after I get out.  Now, when someone comes in here, they will not only find me trapped in a bathtub, but they’ll also find my big, stinky number two.

My eyes are starting to feel heavy.  Luckily, my body is lodged in this tub in such a way that it would be physically impossible for me to drown.  All there is left to do is pray.  Pray that I don’t get bathtub sores again.

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