I love my bathtub. I have made long term living decisions based on the desirability of the tub. In fact, I agreed to our present house because of the garden tub.
A GARDEN tub is one that you can sink into comfortably when you are 12 months pregnant. Much like I was with Emme, when we moved here. It has been my refuge, my place of respite, a welcome relief from the insanity that is my house.
This morning I stumbled into my bathroom for my morning soak. Which can last anywhere from 45 seconds to 20 minutes, depending on the level of chaos in the rest of the house. And I was greeted by a gigantic green filled water balloon.
IN MY GARDEN TUB.
It was so enormous that I couldn’t even lift it out of the tub. I was forced to share my morning soak with the enormous green water balloon.
Because I knew that the balloon was the prized possession of one 4 year old, who has lately commandeered my tub.
And since for medical reasons he has to sit in a tub of tepid water at least 20 minutes a day, we try to make it as pleasant an experience as possible. And if you must know, I have been known to serve him his dinner during his soak.
Midway through my 45 second bath, I heard my son hit his belly on the floor outside of my bathroom door. “MOM,” he hollered underneath the door, “IS MY GREEN BALLOON STILL IN THE BATHTUB?”
“Yes, Jensen, it’s in the bath with me.”
“Okay. BUT DON’T PLAY WITH IT!”
“Roger that, dude.”
Nothing is sacred.
So, are you a bath or a shower person?
And for your reading pleasure, my girlfriend Diana sent the following to me. I have no idea who wrote it. I just know that whoever she is, she is my people.
(author unknown, but admired)
Don’t be alarmed, the world isn’t coming to an end. I am simply taking a bath. It will take about thirty minutes and will involve soap and water. Yes, I know how to swim. Even if I didn’t, forcing myself to drown in a half-inch of lukewarm water is more work than I’ve got energy for. (Which reminds me, I’m all for science projects, but the next time you want to see if Play-Doh floats, use cold water.)
Don’t panic if I’m not out right on time. I’ve heard that people don’t dissolve in water and I’d like to test the theory. While I’m in the tub, I’d like you to remember a few things. The large slab of wood between us is called a door. Do not bang to hear my voice. I promise that even though you can’t see me, I *am* on the other side. I’m not digging an escape tunnel and running for the border,no matter what I said a while ago. I didn’t mean it. Honest. There will be plenty of time later to tell me about your day.
“Later” means at a time when I am no longer naked, wet, and contemplating bubble gum in the blow dryer. I know you have important things to tell me. Please let one of them be that you have invented a new way to blow bubbles, not a new way to add gum to your hair.
Believe it or not, shouting, “TELEPHONE!” through the closed bathroom door will *not* make the phone stop ringing. Answer it and take a message. Since Amazing Mind-Reading Mom has the day off, you’ll need to write that message down. Use paper and a pencil. Do not use your brother and the laundry marker. We can’t send him to school with telephone number tattoos.
Water makes me wet, not deaf. I can still tell the difference between the sound of “nothing” and the sound of a child playing the piano with a basketball. I can also hear you tattling at the top of your lungs. I’m *choosing* NOT to answer you.
Don’t call your dad at work and tell him I am unconscious in the bathroom. He didn’t appreciate it last time. He won’t appreciate it more this time. Trust me.
No matter how much I would like it, water does not make me forgetful. I remember who you are and why you are grounded. No, you can’t go to Shelby’s house to play. No, you can’t go to Shelby’s house to use the bathroom. If someone is in our other bathroom, you will just have to think dry thoughts and wait. Unless you have four feet and a tail, do not think of going outside to “water” the lawn. I know the dog does it. The neighbors don’t feel the need to call me when the dog does it.
Unless the house catches on fire, stay inside and keep the doors locked. Do not go outside and throw rocks at the bathroom window to get my attention. I know it works in the movies. This is reality, the place where people don’t like to sit in a tub while rocks and broken glass rain in on them. Do not set the house on fire. Call me if there is an emergency.
1. Dad has fallen off the roof.
2. Your brother and/or sister is bleeding.
3. There’s a red fire truck in front of our house.
Emergencies are NOT:
1. Dad has fallen asleep.
2. Someone on TV is bleeding.
3. There’s a red pickup truck in front of our house.
One other thing: Being forced to use the last roll of toilet paper for a towel does not make me happy. It makes me sticky with little white polka dots. In the future, when the tub overflows, use a mop to clean up the water instead of every towel in the house. For my sanity’s sake, let’s pretend it was the tub, Okay? No, I don’t want to hear the real story. Ever. Especially not while I’m standing in the pool of water you missed.
By the way, all Play-Doh experiments are hereby canceled.
Be good. Entertain yourselves. Yes, you can do both at the same time. Try coloring, playing a game, or paying that stack of bills on the coffee table.
I’ll be out soon. Maybe.