In all my 26 years, I've only dropped one book in the bathtub: a paperback edition of Frank Herbert's Dune. And that was before I was even a teenager. Yet doing the same to an ereading device has been among my biggest fears since the invention of the things. The acquisition of a Kindle Fire back in the Yuletide Holidays made a situation such as today's all but inevitable.
Today I confronted the dialectic of being enthralled with a story contained in an ereader (Rick Yancey's The Isle of Blood) while, at the same time, being possessed by an urgent need of a hot bath. The synthesis I reached is that--risks be damned!--if the format of a "book" cannot be read in the tub, it is not a format worth assimilation into my collection.
I read on my Kindle Fire in the bathtub. Nothing happened.