Moms tend to claim that we get Mother’s Day because labour is the worst. It’s pretty bad, but I’ll tell you the real reason: bath time.
I quietly tiptoe upstairs on a Saturday for a little relaxation in the tub. My expectations are not high, just 15 minutes or so to soak and unwind in the calm ambiance of the bathtub.
I clear out the hodge podge of bath toys and turn on the water. No need for bubbles, I know this won’t be a long soak (see how
resigned realistic I am?).
Just as I get in a little face peeks through the door (how did I forget to lock it?) and chirps sweetly: “I, too?”
I tell Little that it’s just Mommy’s turn.
Sure, you’re next. Close the door.
He pulls the door shut and I presume he goes off to play. That is until I turn on the hot water and hear a muffled tiny voice ask, “mine turn now?”
No, not yet.
I now realize he is standing right outside the door. Any time I make any noise he inquires: “mine turn?”
No, just rinsing my hair.
“I turn now?”
Nope, just dropped my razor.
“I go now?”
No, soon. Still bathing.
“Mommy, me go? Now?”
That was just your brother flushing a toilet somewhere else in the house.
“Mine turn? Mommy?”
Nope, toilet again.
“I come in?”
I think a brother just got a drink.
I keep my head under water hoping for the illusion of isolation, but fun fact: you can still hear someone opening and closing all the dresser drawers. Repeatedly. With vigor.
I pretend not to hear the slamming and convince myself I won’t discover my underwear strewn around the room. Or on his head. Or both. I’m pretty sure I hear him nosing around in my jewellery box, but those macaroni necklaces will just have to sacrifice themselves for my inner peace.
The sound of the water draining from the tub is like a rally cry. He scurries back to the door to ask one more time: “Mine turn? Now?”
Yes, Little, your turn.
Thrilled, he strips himself down (something he has vowed to be unable to do, I won’t forget that slip-up, you’re on your own now with your coat, buddy) and clamours into the tub.
“I no need soap, Mommy. No wash my hair.”
Apparently, Little has learned that sometimes tub time is not about the bath itself.
Bath time – is it a family affair at your house or a peaceful oasis?