Last night while having a late night soak in the tub I decided to use a suspiciously named bath product that I received as a part of a birthday gift from someone whom I think had an ulterior motive in mind.

Had I been a flag waving 'God Bless' American, the product's name would have had me diving for cover, buying huge amounts of bottled water, and calling the President begging him to raise the threat alert level. Thankfully though I am a 'liberal lefty European type' who doesn't think there is a terrorist around every corner. That aside though, the name did seem a little ominous, if nothing else.

'Explosive Shower Power! - Now with extra reactive bubbles!!'

It had gone unused and sat alone in my shower for some time, due mainly to the fact that at home I like to have long relaxing baths and that my shower here is utter rubbish! Showers are reserved for the gym where they have showers that push the water out so fast your skin tingles in a way that a true man would never admit to. Of course, being a 'true man' that I am, (at least at the gym), I elected to avoid taking the bottle of 'Explosive Shower Power' there, just in case I ended up in a swathe of bubbles that might make me look like some kind of scary fairy.

Now, usually in the privacy of my own home, a bath involves candle light, a drink of something refreshing, and some kind of bubble bath. Yes I know it's not exactly GQ, but this is Simon behind closed doors, so the rules of 'true man' can be somewhat relaxed. I settle into the steaming hot bath that has already metamorphasized my little bathroom into something resembling a dodgy looking sauna. I then sit back and just chill, allowing all muscles to breath a long sign of relief.

But last night, as I began to run the bath, I realised I was out of bubbles! I located an old bottle of shampoo and emptied it into the bath then stood back in satisfaction as a bubble mountain began to form like the first few geological moments of Genesis. Seconds later there was before me an impressive Himalayan like bubbelion landscape, reaching dizzying heights never seen before in my bathroom. I was pleased, and considered changing from the usual bubble bath to this cheap brand of shampoo for all future such soakings.

Because the bath is usually too hot to get into for the first few minutes I leave the room and do something else while it cools and fills the air with steam and girly smells that I would never usually admit to enjoying. However on this occasion I returned to find that the mountains had fallen, and where there were once valleys and hills, there was just water and the occasional island of small bubbles resembling a satellite picture of the earth from space.

With no more bubbles to hand I sank into my bath feeling robbed, like someone had burst my bubble - all of them in fact! But then, from the corner of my eye, I spied the 'Exploding Shower Power'.

I read the label and nowhere did it mention that it was not suitable for baths so like a child at Christmas I tore off the lid and squeezed some of the reactive bubble goo into my hand... where it remained... goo. I was puzzled and re-read the label. It definitely said that there would be bubbles aplenty, so where are my bubbles I thought while looking back at my green goo'ed hand. Maybe more gooage was required, so I squished out some more, then some more, then some more after that. Nothing happened, no explosions, no reaction, no bubbles. Just lots of goo that didn't even smell like it would bubble in a hot tub.

Then I wondered maybe it needed some encouragement, so I applied the goo to my upper body like Pamela Anderson night on the Playboy channel. At first nothing happened but then, like the first signs of life, small bubbles started to appear. At first I felt like this seemed a poor reward for such an effort on my part, but within an alarmingly short time I had more bubbles than I cared for. With each passing moment more bubbles appeared, turning my relaxing soak in the tub into a uncontrollable and unexpected B.B.I (Bubble Bath Incident).

Pretty quickly I was surrounded by bubbles and having to make little tunnels for air. I read the label again. "Apply sparingly" it said, but made no attempt to warn the user it was serious, that anything other than sparingly would turn into despairingly! I stood to my feet thinking my head would rise from the bubbles like Phoenix from the ashes, but the bubbles simply stood with me. I stepped from the bath and grabbed for my robe while trying to shake the bubbles off me in the fashion of someone being attacked by a swarm of bees. For a second I imagined the scene of my landlady discovering my dead naked body under a huge pile of suffocating killer bubbles, and the sniggers from people laughing about the man who died after being overcome by soap!

I didn't venture back into the bathroom until this morning whereupon the scene looked much the same as it does every day. Not a rogue bubble in sight? Just a cold bath and a bottle of 'Exploding Shower Power' innocently sitting by the tap waiting too explode like the wrath of a peaceful God. From now on I'll stick to my usual brand of girly bubble-bath if it's all the same to you.