Bath time.  It’s one of my favorite times of the day for a plethora of reasons.  One, it signals the end of the day.  Bedtime is near, and so is my coveted glass of Merlot.  Two, my kids get along in the tub, and have more fun in there than they do anywhere else throughout the day.

The adventures and laughter that come out of that bathroom on a nightly basis are the stuff of comic genius.  While they are saving the planet one princess at a time,  I get a few moments of peace to put the house back together and pick out cute little jammies and outfits for the next morning.

All that said, there are downfalls to ‘tub-time’ just like any other time of the day.  Chasing half naked…and sometimes all the way naked toddlers around the house is fun for a minute…tops…then, it’s exhausting.  Any longer than a minute with out pants in the cool air and there will be a pee puddle to clean up somewhere.  Either that, or one spouted from how hard they are laughing.

In the tub, they flood the bathroom.  Whole buckets, sometimes, splashing onto the floor.  After many nights of losing my cool trying to contain the water to the tub, I came to the conclusion that it’s much easier just to leave them to (most) of their own devices and come in with towels later.  (Seems the more you tell a toddler not to dump buckets of water on the floor, the more fun it becomes…)

Rinsing my older daughter’s hair out is a downfall all in itself.  The kid plays in the water all summer.  I mean, ALL SUMMER.  In the water, face getting splashed, jumping in…but not in the tub.  No.  Then, she mimics the Wicked Old Witch in The Wizard of Oz being melted…it’s ridiculous.

Nothing however, is worse, than poop in the tub.

There’s a lot of disgusting things I expected to encounter as a parent.  But nothing, I mean nothing, is more disgusting than floating turds.

Almost four years into parenting and I know when there are turds floating in the bath tub without even having to be told.  With my oldest daughter, the shrieks of terror were a dead give-away.  Her younger sister starts collecting them and throwing them onto the floor, a discreet “Ewww” every now and then.

No one deserves to experience the smell and texture of poo quite like I have to when there are floating turds in the tub.  Nor, have to pick it out of the drain lest it clog it up.  No one wants a drain clogged with poo.  No one.

Logs in the sand box?  Fine.  Half expected.  We have a cat, they like to copy…whatever.  But, the tub?

Pulling a slippery child who’s been sitting in their own poo is no fun either.  As they try to wriggle free and run naked through the house as I disinfect and re-fill the tub.  So disgusting.  Give me the nastiest poop-filled diaper.  Fine.  Floating turds make me want to vomit.

Happy Floaters…

Megs