I say "little" because it is. Just for the two of us.
To be honest I've been in it maybe three times in total. I'm just not a fan. It gets too hot and uncomfortable for me very quickly. I prefer an easy hot shower.
Anyway.
Mrs P is away two or three days a week at the moment on Nana duty so I'm doing my own thing.
I've got into a good routine.
Up at 5.30am. Walk the dog, shower, dress, breakfast and out the door and off to work before the sun is up. Well, too far up.
The routine has been working well these last few weeks.
But then the other day I changed it. Big mistake.
Now where I live the other day it was freezing. So cold in fact that when I got back home after accompanying George The Dog on his sniffing expedition of lamp posts in our neighbourhood, I could feel it deep down in my bones.
"Bugger it," I thought. "I'm going to sit in the spa with a coffee and warm up."
And so I did.
I need to set the scene a little for you here.
We live in a small house, surrounded by trees on one side and very tight to two fences on two other sides. The front side is visible from the street. The spa pool is immediately outside a small conservatory at the rear accessed through a ranch slider door.
Because it's so private, and it was still dark, I opted not to bother with any spa attire other than a beanie I plonked on my head to keep my ears warm.
I have to say the warm water was glorious. I didn't put the air jets on mainly because I'd left my glasses inside and couldn't see the thing I needed to push on the control panel in the dimness.
Eventually though I knew I'd have to get out and my coffee consumed and warmth oozing through my previously chilled frame I hopped out, closed the lid and went to slide open the ranch slider.
But it was locked.
Don't ask me how it happened. I'm thinking as I slammed it shut on my way out the mechanism or something jammed or jumped into the locked position.
It didn't really matter because now I was stuck outside in the freezing cold stark naked except for a beanie and a coffee cup.
And courtesy of Mrs P's demand for me to tidy up outside last weekend, all those bits of tarpaulin and other stuff that would have been useful to offer me some protection from Mother Nature were now at the bottom of the landfill.
Quickly I rushed round to the front of the house, checking to make sure nobody was walking past as I sprinted from cover and tried the front door.
Locked.
Worst still the security lights had come on and there I was on the front deck, prancing around like the star act from one of those live porn shows in Amsterdam. Er, so I'm told.
My next course of action is to get the spare key out of the lockbox thing in the woodshed.
Only thing is it's not yet light enough for me to see the numbers. Remember my glasses are inside.
The solution lies in the security light on the wall to the left and high above. If I can knock it into a better position I might get enough light on the lockbox to see the numbers and get the key and get inside before my wotsits literally freeze and snap off.
The first piece of wood I threw at the light hit the wall with a bang and missed. As did the second and third. But the fourth, miraculously, hit it exactly where I aimed and adjusted the light perfectly.
I'm assuming the racket woke the neighbourhood though. Over the fence I could see lights flicking on.
Under pressure, losing all feeling in my extremities and squinting at the numbers – honestly an "8", a "9" and a "0" look exactly the same in odd light - I got the key out and made it inside before anyone spotted me and I had to use the coffee cup to cover up my, er, embarrassment.
I was literally frozen to the core as I stood under the heat pump contemplating my next move.
I realised I needed some hot water on me again.
But I'd be forgetting the spa pool. This time though I'd be taking a nice, long hot shower instead.
• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to news@whanganuichronicle.co.nz (Kevin Page in subject field).
