Kingston is such a brave little boy. He took a bath in our bathtub tonight. Can you believe it? What a very brave boy. I am so proud of him.
What in the world, you ask? Well, on Sunday I was participating in the dreadful act of scrubbing the tub. Kingston came in to supervise. I took the handheld sprayer and wet down the whole tub in order to sprinkle it with Comet and commence to scrubbing. I haphazardly replaced the sprayer and began huffing and puffing and scrubbing. Midway through the ordeal, the sprayer came flying down and conked me in the head. Do you know how heavy one of those things is? A 15 pound sprayer make of solid steel and granite came crashing down on my head. (I may or may not have exaggerated that part about the composition of the sprayer. I cannot be sure.) Anyway, Kingston was standing next to me when this catastrophe left me dazed and confused. I shouted a few words of surprise and anguish. He looked at me like I had grown 2 heads, when in fact I had, what with the giant knot that formed on top of my original noggin.
Ever since then. . . impossible to get the kid in the tub. He looks up, frowns the biggest, saddest frown, then pats his head and says, "Get out! Get out!" and tries to scramble out of the tub as fast as his little naked self will let him. My name is Lori and I let my child go 3 days without a bath. There. I said it. Eeeew! Something had to give.
Tonight I gave the sprayer a good scrubbing and let it dangle in the tub. I coaxed him in (after he sat on the potty an pee-peed, said he was all done, got off, flushed and put down the lid then went into the living room and peed some more on the rug) and he semi-enjoyed his bath for about 10 minutes! I turned the sprayer on and he enjoyed playing under the spray as long as it was only a few inches above his head and hands.
Hooray! We have a bather. Now Social Services can scratch me off their list of people to do a home study on.