Friday, December 7, 2012

Tales From the Tub

Ok the title of this post is misleading.  Because my children take showers and therefore aren’t technically in a tub. 

They used to take baths, though.  They used to love baths.  But they also used to cover every surface of my bathroom with water.  They simply could not keep themselves from splashing.  And I simply could not keep myself from wanting to kill them every night. 

So…we switched to showers.

Showers are so much better for us.  We turn on the water, put the kids in there and shut the curtain.  They still try to splash, but there is no pool of water for them to get their hands on so it stays mostly contained. 

They play in there for a while before we soap them up.  It’s a nice little break actually.  I can’t see what they’re doing in there and you know what they say: Outta sight…didn’t ever happen…can’t be held responsible. 

A lot of times I’ll just plant myself on the toilet with a glass of wine and listen to them chat…and fight.

It’s usually Grant who screams first.  Carter is a jerky big brother but Grant is a cry baby little brother.  It’s not a great combination. 

One night I heard Grant scream and then I heard this:

“Grant, I didn’t punch you.  I just peed on you.  Relax!”

God, Grant!  Can’t you even be peed on without screaming?  My theory is if someone absolutely HAS to pee on you the best place for that to happen is in the shower.

Then there was the night I heard Grant screaming and then heard Carter saying sorry over and over.  My curiosity got the better of me on that one so I investigated.

Carter was in there holding the showerhead which was busy spitting aquatic bullets at Grant.

I was unaware of the fact that my showerhead contained a ‘machine gun’ setting but Carter apparently found it and was unintentionally assaulting his brother. 

And that day goes down in history as the only time Carter has ever attacked his brother by accident.

Aside from the occasional urine and bullet spray incidents they actually play really nicely in there.  And of course if they’re gonna play they need…trucks…


Used to be my shower was the only place I didn’t have to deal with this bullshit. 
When the shower is over Carter likes to do this thing where he sits down in there and tells me:

“I just want to sit here like an old man for a little bit.”

Like an old man?  Wet, naked and sitting on the floor of a shower?  What the hell type of old men have you been hanging around?

Maybe we should give baths another try.

No comments:

Post a Comment