Revenge of the Bathtub

The Husband was gone last week for work.  When he got home last night just in time for tubby, I was very relieved to turn that duty over to him.  The girls had not been in the bathtub for long when I heard the Husband exclaim that tubby time was over because someone had pooped.

Now I cannot entirely blame the Little One, you see she apparently told the Husband that she needed to poop.  But he didn’t think it was imminent, so he didn’t move quickly.  She often tells us that she has to go and very rarely does it turn out to be true.

Unfortunately, last night it was true.   So my brief moments of peace were short-lived as I had to go Lysol the tub.

So tonight, the Husband is in San Diego for a meeting for work, so I am once again on my own.

The girls were in the tub and playing as usual.   When it came time to get clean, the Little One proclaimed that she wanted to do it herself.   She is becoming little miss independent.   I gave her a little soap and let her do her thing.

One of the reasons I despise doing tubby time is that the Little One likes to stand up to get her body clean.   It takes a year or two off my life every night when she wobbly stands up to clean her body.

The Husband, who is the regular bath person, swears she’s never fallen.

Well, that luck ran out tonight when the bathtub apparently wanted revenge for the poop incident.

Why is it that when kids fall in the tub, they never fall back and land on the butt?   Instead they always go face first into the side of the tub.

So mouth-first she went into the side of the tub.   It’s one of those things that happens really fast, but in your brain it is going in slow motion.   It’s like your mom instinct just wants to tease you into thinking there is something you can do to prevent the bloody lip that is sure to follow.

Of course it happens so fast, there is nothing that can be done to prevent the slippage once the slippage begins.   {Yes, I know the solution is to not let her stand up in the tub.   Trust me, I tell her at least 10 times a night to stay on her bottom.}

So after some screaming, tears and blood she seems to be okay.   Her teeth are all intact, she tore her labial frenum {that little flap of skin between your gums and top teeth, impressive huh?   Not really, she’s whacked her mouth so many times and I have Googled it just as many times, so it was bound to stick in my brain one these times).

Lesson to be learned, don’t poop in the tub. Revenge is brutal.

{It’s all in jest, of course the bathtub didn’t really seek revenge!}