19 October 2011

Rub a dub dub

Bathtime is always a manic time in our house. I have to be ready with a towel for the moment you decide to try and escape the bath. There is no chance you will try an escape until you've had at least 10 minutes of craziness. Splashing, swimming, blowing bubbles and throwing every single toy out, and half the bath water with it.

You won't have bubbles in your bath. You hate getting them on your hands. I thought I would try you with bubbles again this week. You were not impressed with Mummy. You kept showing me your hand, saying 'bubbles, eurgh'.

You remembered that last time you had a bath, there was a spider near your basketball net. You wouldn't go anywhere near it this time and kept telling me, 'shpisher, shpisher'. I definately got that spider. That spider went on a magical journey down the toilet.

And then you get out of the bath and this is my favourite part. When you are soaking wet and you snuggle into your towel and into me for warmth. It makes me feel like the most important Mummy in the world. After a snuggle that I never want to end, it's time to race. Race to get the towel off you, cream on, powder sprinkled nappy in place, vest, pyjamas and.... relax. Cbeebies takes over and I clear up the fallout from your bath. A trail of towels, talc, dirty clothes, socks, and so many bath toys. Oh, and the couple of inches of water that you helpfully tipped out of the bath.


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