Once upon a time, back when you were small and steady, you had Spiderman bubble bath. What made Spiderman bubble bath so incredible was the canister, a Silly String construction that shot out long, silvery, squiggly “webs” of foam, which disintegrated when they touched the water. As you splashed and raced to lift the lacey froth out of the water, it became bubbles, and you would blow them from your hands and around the green bathtub and onto the tiles and onto the frosted glass door until someone said, “That’s enough now, you’re making a mess.” If you didn’t quit, you knew there would be tears, there would be trouble, there would likely be something thrown. There would not be any more Spiderman bath foam in all its webbed and bubbly glory.
An eel, questioning