As I was watching Game 4 of the NBA Finals tonight, Devoted Wife suggested I give Kate her bath during halftime. I agreed, figuring that I could easily get her bathed and dressed for bed and be back in front of the TV before the second half started. After all, if its one thing I want my children to learn, its to have priorities.
Kate recently outgrew the plastic bathtub that fits into the kitchen sink, so she now gets her baths in a real tub, just like Mom and Dad. Well, except that unlike with Mom and Dad, inside her tub is a giant inflatible duck (Mom is a meanie and won't let Dad try the duck). Another notable difference is that neither Mom nor Dad actually take baths, because showers don't involve sitting in your dirty body-water and also because in order to get any part of your torso covered in water in our bathtub, you have to slide down so far into the tub that your legs stick up out the other end. Imagine a mouse trying to bathe in a saucer: its big enough to get wet, its just not deep enough for a good soak. But our tub is, it turns out, quite effective for holding a giant inflatable duck with a small girl in its center.
As I was trying to figure out how to get the duck far enough under the faucet so that the water landed inside the duck rather than "rolling off its back" (hint: keep the duck slightly deflated so its pliable), Kate reached up from her seated position on the floor next to me and grabbed the top of the tub to try to pull herself up so she could see into the tub and watch whatever I was doing to the duck. I grabbed Kate and stood her on her feet, leaning her against the tub next to me with her hands on the tub to balance her. I guess her balance was not as good as I had counted on, because after 10-15 seconds she tilted sideways, fell backward, landed on her rear end, bumped her head on the wall and then tipped over and bumped it again on the tile floor. I knelt there holding a giant yellow duck as Kate burst into tears, convinced that I loved this duck more than I loved her. Luckily she was more scared than she was hurt, and as soon as I stripped off her diaper and plopped her down into the duck she forgot her plans to contact child protective services. She was instantly in heaven.
Kate recently outgrew the plastic bathtub that fits into the kitchen sink, so she now gets her baths in a real tub, just like Mom and Dad. Well, except that unlike with Mom and Dad, inside her tub is a giant inflatible duck (Mom is a meanie and won't let Dad try the duck). Another notable difference is that neither Mom nor Dad actually take baths, because showers don't involve sitting in your dirty body-water and also because in order to get any part of your torso covered in water in our bathtub, you have to slide down so far into the tub that your legs stick up out the other end. Imagine a mouse trying to bathe in a saucer: its big enough to get wet, its just not deep enough for a good soak. But our tub is, it turns out, quite effective for holding a giant inflatable duck with a small girl in its center.
As I got the water running and the bath gear together (there's rather a lot of it for a baby bath, I've learned), I started looking at my watch. After all, I was sure that Kate would want to make it back before the second half started, because she's a Celtics fan. She claims its their scrappy defense but I think its something else:
As I was trying to figure out how to get the duck far enough under the faucet so that the water landed inside the duck rather than "rolling off its back" (hint: keep the duck slightly deflated so its pliable), Kate reached up from her seated position on the floor next to me and grabbed the top of the tub to try to pull herself up so she could see into the tub and watch whatever I was doing to the duck. I grabbed Kate and stood her on her feet, leaning her against the tub next to me with her hands on the tub to balance her. I guess her balance was not as good as I had counted on, because after 10-15 seconds she tilted sideways, fell backward, landed on her rear end, bumped her head on the wall and then tipped over and bumped it again on the tile floor. I knelt there holding a giant yellow duck as Kate burst into tears, convinced that I loved this duck more than I loved her. Luckily she was more scared than she was hurt, and as soon as I stripped off her diaper and plopped her down into the duck she forgot her plans to contact child protective services. She was instantly in heaven.
As you can see, she nearly came out of the tub to try to pull me in with her. I made it a point not to notice whether she peed in her bath, because, as I mentioned, the NBA Finals were on and I wasn't about to go through this process twice.
At one point I shouted for Devoted Wife to bring the camera to capture a few pics, since I recall from growing up that a few bathtime photos of a child are a perfect way to later humiliate that child when he or she is about 10 or 11 years old (or, in my case, freshman year in college). While I recently decided to get a new camera and a camcorder (I nearly pulled the trigger today!), our old brick-sized PowerShot once again proved to be reliable. I thought I saw Devoted Wife out of the corner of my eye look as if she was contemplating dropping it into the bath to accelerate my decision-making process on the new cameras, but she must have thought better of it.
Kate enjoyed the rest of her bath and we were soon watching the Celtics pull out one of the most impressive come-from-behind victories ever seen in the NBA Finals. Kate celebrated the night by donning a green headband and kicking the tar Boston-style out of the yellow duck, which she claimed looked suspiciously like Luke Walton.
At one point I shouted for Devoted Wife to bring the camera to capture a few pics, since I recall from growing up that a few bathtime photos of a child are a perfect way to later humiliate that child when he or she is about 10 or 11 years old (or, in my case, freshman year in college). While I recently decided to get a new camera and a camcorder (I nearly pulled the trigger today!), our old brick-sized PowerShot once again proved to be reliable. I thought I saw Devoted Wife out of the corner of my eye look as if she was contemplating dropping it into the bath to accelerate my decision-making process on the new cameras, but she must have thought better of it.
Kate enjoyed the rest of her bath and we were soon watching the Celtics pull out one of the most impressive come-from-behind victories ever seen in the NBA Finals. Kate celebrated the night by donning a green headband and kicking the tar Boston-style out of the yellow duck, which she claimed looked suspiciously like Luke Walton.
2 comments:
this post made me laugh out loud.
and i'm really delighted to hear you are a celtics fan.
Bath fun! We received the "Duck Tub" for Hunter (still to little for it) and I am grateful for the advice on filling it up, and a bit sad that I too will not experience it.
Post a Comment