Wanted: One Bathtub Buddy

Every night after supper Luke (18 mos) is covered in food (read: ketchup) and requires an immediate bath. He and I have been taking baths together since he was able to sit up. He splashes, plays with his toys and puts his mouth directly on the faucet and drinks like a gerbil. Bath time has always been fun time…until recently. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still having fun. It’s me that is having some problems.

As Luke has gotten bigger he has begun bringing some “baggage” to the bathtub. It irks me beyond measure to see anything foreign floating past me, and trust me there is no shortage of sock fuzz. If that’s not enough to get me going then Luke standing up and peeing against the side of the tub is. I can feel my blood pressure rise as the fuzz circles me like a hawk and the water
turns a pale yellow.

Last night in addition to the usual, I discovered a piece of chicken floating in the water. The rogue chicken bite had apparently been stuck to his skin only to break free after being submerged. This was my breaking point. I tried not to panic and called for Brantley to get Luke out of the tub. He complied and sweetly asked, “Do you want to stay in the tub and relax for a
while?”

“Thanks but no thanks. It’s hard to relax in a petri dish.”

In a related story I’m considering adopting the YMCA’s policy of making everyone shower prior to getting in the water. You rarely see chicken floating there.