Girl, Rottweiler, Bath

Bath's are peaceful. But today I learned something, and I would like to share it with you as a math equation.
Moses + Bathroom + Me in bath = bruises and wet dog.

Looks Yummy! I try?

The bathroom in the house I live in is orange, not a burnt orange, no that color that is somewhere between neon and tangerine. It was obviously decorated with multipatterned dragonflies in lime and hot pink. The ugly white tile screams up at one while that person glances with loathing down at the dirt. There is two sinks and across from them is the bathtub. The bathtub is absurdly large for a basement bathroom, more of something seen in larger houses. It has jets and could easily fit a man of six feet.
Our story begins.
Getting home from the coffee shop means three things to my wonderful female self: One is a bath. Two is sleep, Three is food. Now as obviously I do not eat in my sleep in means most often I forgo number three. Parking my Volkswagen Beetle is a snap and getting Moses out of the car always seems to slow me down on the way to the delicious hot water that will ease my feet and make me feel human again. I drag Moses to the gate as he begs to go see the next door neighbors dogs, open the gate, let him off leash, and watch as he mopes for a mere forty five seconds.
Entering the house through the backdoor it's a straight shot down the stairs from the door, turning right twice I enter the bathroom.
Stripping takes no time at all, I have perfected what I like to call "Turn on water with foot while taking off shirt maneuver" Bath's are that wonderful.
Moses enters the bathroom with me and lays down on that ever increasing pile of laundry (less big now I have a roommate).
I have never tested my bathwater like I test my shower water, so I launch myself into the bathtub and hop out with a burnt foot. Obviously the water needs to cool some.
Moses laughs.
I growl at him.

I see you water! Water splashed! 

We turn back into our respective species and I wait for the water to get to the correct temperature. When it does I grin and step back into the most wonderful creation in all the world (besides Word programs).
As I sit down, the black master of stealth, manages to peak his head over the bathtub and stare at me.
What are you doing? Is it fun?
"Moses, dont you dare!" I need to stop thinking that dogs and humans can understand one another.
Moses gives me a patronizing look and he bounces. I cringe and close my eyes imagining my stomach being hit by 80 lbs of Rottweiler. The hit does not come. Whip whip whip SLLUUURRRPPP. I look up to see Moses with his paws dangling over the edge of the tub his face in the water. Normally he licks it from the faucet but today he felt like experimenting.
I glare, wasting the precious eye movement on a puppy yet again. I sigh and move my feet. I watch Moses suddenly hyper focus.
"What's wrong?" I move again
Moses' head follows my movment.
Experimentally, I whoosh my foot across the top of the water.
Moses swings his head back and forth noticing (I assume) what he believes is a drowning foot.
Everything happens instantly.

My phone on the sink vibrates, I pull my foot back, and Moses launches himself into the bathtub.
I cough and stare at the puppy, trying to pull my foot out of the water.
His nose is completly submerged and he is trying to get his head down far enough to eat my foot.
"What are you doing?"
Moses continues to face plant for my foot.
I sigh, bath's are not as peaceful as I remember.