Turbulence in Paradise?

How rude of me to deprive you, my dear blog buddy, of the finished product that took so much of my time and lumbar vertabrae's effort to create. Yes, this is it. We have spent countless hours soaking in the spa chemicals, while cluelessly peering into the night sky. I must admit that I thought it would be a more relaxed atmosphere in the tepid liquid. How foolish of me to not factor in the singing, screaming and jumping rituals of my beloved, and partially toothless daughters. This is not to say that I don't enjoy my daughters singing ability or their physical mastery of the high jump. I would just like to enjoy some peaceful time in my spa, on occassion. I know what you're saying, "There you go again, putting on your "Perfect World" glasses over your maturing, fatherly eyes." True, I'm aging; but I'm still young enough to dream. I like my spa - I just wish it operated a little quieter and didn't splash quite so much.