So last night, I had 3 very grubby looking little men. Maybe it was from playing the sand table. Maybe it was from jumping on the black trampoline tarp. Maybe it was from digging in the mud. Maybe it's simply because they are boys and it's summer.
Irregardless, I have come with a stellar bath routine at our house that seems to please all. Sam is as happy as a clam to get the tun in the boys bathroom all to his lonesome. Ray and Rob think it's super sweet that I let them lounge in my big corner tub down the hall. I adore that they are all getting clean at the same time without the fight of who goes first or has to get out so someone else can get in. (We've had more than occasion of a dry and pajama clad child climbing back into the tub as he thought he was missing out on all the sudsy fun.) I can flit and float down the hall between the two to keep an eye on all the splashing and make an attempt to keep the majority of the water in the tub.
Last night, I was on my back from the master bath to the boys bathroom to check in on Sam. Sam LOVES bathtime. Getting him in is never an issue, but out is sometimes a challenge. As I rounded the corner, I was surprised to see Sam half in and half out of the tub. I rushed over to assist him and asked, "Sam, what are you doing?"
In his perfect 2 (and almost 1/2) gibberish he said, "I get out. Water Mama! Water got me all wet!"
Um, well, yeah. That's kinda how it works. I was confused momentarily. After all, Sam is a fish in the tub. As he began swiping at the bubbles on his tummy, I realized it was more of the soap bubbles that he was having issue with, but still thought his kid quote of the day was pretty priceless!
I did manage to wrangle him back into the tub long enough to give his knees the scrubbing they had coming. As I dried him off, I noticed his feet were still not perfectly clean. Sigh. Oh, well. It's not like they'd stay clean for long!
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