Sunday, May 15, 2011

The Dirty Truth About Getting Clean

Bath time is always the same for a two year old.

It starts with the water (of course).
"That's not enough water!"
"It's too hot!"
"Now it's too cold!"

Next, the toys are added. As I'm tossing in the last few, I usually hear, "Where are the bubbles? Can I have bubbles?" Of course. Now that I've filled the tub to your specifications, you want bubbles. We're out of bubbles right now, Sweetie. Maybe next time, ok? Here. Have another toy.

After a few minutes of playtime, there's a splash or two and my jeans are wet. *Sigh.*

Mumbling something about keeping the water inside, I draw the curtains closed in hopes of minimizing the mess, which halfway works. It keeps the far half of the bathroom dry.

Then comes the most awful, terrifying, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! part:

The Washing.

Hair always comes first. I squeeze a small amount of shampoo onto his head. "NOOOO!!!!!" is the only sound audible for the next two minutes, as I chase him around the tub with my hands, scrubbing here and there whenever I catch him. But that's not the worst part.

Then we rinse.

I grab the nearest cup or empty squirt toy and fill it with water. He retaliates with a splash, but I'm quick! I shield with my left and squirt with my right, and - GOTCHA!

He screams.
"It's in my eye!
I need a towel!!
I need a towel for my eye!"

Oh my. Must hurry. The acidic water is going to eat through his eyes and into his brain (!). I know you can sense the worry I'm feeling.

After three or four rounds of this, it is now time to bathe my child. One might ask, "Why? What's the point? With all of the shampoo and water flying around, certainly the rest of him is clean!" But oh, no, my friend. I will not give in. I am going to win this battle! - Nay, this WAR!

More screaming ensues. Armed with a washcloth full of kids' body wash, I wrestle with my son until I grab an appendage - sometimes an arm, sometimes a leg - and scrub as quickly as I can, switching to a different appendage or body part faster than Superman can fly. YES! It's over. Of course, there's no real need to rinse due to all of the thrashing about in the tub.

He practices his "swimming" while I towel myself off.

I look at myself in the mirror. My bottom half is soaked and my top half looks as though I've just been through a windstorm. How glamorous.

I just love the feeling of wet jeans. Don't you?

No comments:

Post a Comment