Bubbly. Three.

Sometimes. You have to wonder about certain Nursery Rhymes.
Throw it down, and say… what in the HOLY heck. I think the authors may have been going a little heavy on the Absinthe back in the days of knickers, and big buckles on shoes.

Today, I was thinking about those three guys. You know.
The Butcher. The Baker. The Candlestick Maker.

Nameless, except for their occupations.
But who were they? Really. And what is this all about?

Three men in a tub,

Now, I am not sure what the take is on this. Are they in a bath tub? Like. Taking a bath? All together? And how did it come to this?

Was the Soap Maker out of town and they were conserving on toiletries? Or maybe in times of yore, friends just took baths together for the heck of it…. on a Saturday night. Bowling Night had not been invented yet.

Or maybe I am just reading this wrong.
The poem goes on.

And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,
And all of them out to sea.

Sooo… maybe they are in one of those little wooden tubs, that would float if it were in water. Hence, all of them out to sea? Which begs an entire other series of questions.

Why were they tooling around the ocean in a wooden tub. Had they been on a ship. A ship that wrecked? The lifeboats were chock-full, so they grabbed the tub… a rub-a-dub-dub?

Or was it like some sort of a guys-day-out-fishing-trip, or something. I’m guessing the butcher would not have been happy about the fish thing.

Yeah. I’m miffed. The three dudes. In that tub.
It makes no sense at all, but the past few days have been a little bristley.

Sooooo….. Let’s not even get started on Jack Sprat, or Peter Pumpkin Eater.