Since I am still in royalty mode, I decided to lounge in a long, luxiourous bath. I start the water up and look at the assortment of oil, salts, beads and soaps at my disposal. The first bottle I pick up is Dead Sea Salts. It promises to relax me with the calming scent of rose and soothe my skin. I pour the bottle without a second thought into the running water and go make myself something to drink. When I come back I notice there are leaves floating in my tub, transforming it into a puddle in the fall. I shrug my shoulders and slip into this murky, leaf filled pond. I try to close my eyes and enjoy the “soothing aroma” but I can’t help but be bothered by the leaves and salt crystals bumping my skin, lodging into my unmentionables. This will never do. I drain the tub and spend the next 15 minutes trying to scoop out the leaves with my colander. I now decide to try out the invigorating rubs. My back could sure use it now that I have had leaf duty. I pick up the bottle of salt scrub and pour a generous amount on to the cooresponding exfoilating pad. I swipe it across my skin, I have now lost the top 4 layers. I feel tortured, alright, I will talk, what do you want to know? I toss it to the side and pick up the muscle rub oil. I smooth it across my raw flesh to note the immediate burning sensation. I pick up the bottle and read how it is infused with menthol and eucalyptus. The burning will not stop! I begin to splash the inflicted area with the tub water, successfully landing a salt crystal into my eye. I am now raw, burned, blinded and have rose petals stuck to my skin like leeches. I finally stand up, turn on the shower and grab my trusty Dial soap. To heck with beauty rituals, Dial is my friend. In one final stab of feminine desperation I grab the bottle of Warm Vanilla lotion and soothe my aching skin. Ahh, bliss. I parade in front of the man. He smells cookies, he now wants cookies. The royal treatment is over as I begin to preheat the oven. Beauty has its price.

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