Monday, November 09, 2009


Bath time around here is no longer fun. What used to be the most joyous time of the day - giggling children, silly shampoo hairdos, oh my goodness the divine smell of a freshly lotioned baby! - has turned into a nightmarish routine of whining and fighting.

I can almost set my watch by the complaining. First Rachel starts her "I'm very very cold" song before her toes even touch the water. Then they fight over who gets to sit in the front of the tub. Then Rachel complains about having to rinse the shampoo out of her hair. Then Anna yells at Rachel for any reason she can find. Then the kicking starts, the kicking of as much water as possible out of the tub and onto the floor.

By the time the water starts flying I am at the end of my rope. Which admittedly isn't that long to begin with. As the girls get out of the tub and start fighting over the lotion and pushing each other for space in front of the mirror, my voice gets louder and soon I'm barking orders at them like a drill seargant, only meaner.

And now I'm pulling them apart and reminding Rachel not to put lotion in her hair and warning Anna to stop screaming and lamenting the fact that every single night it's the same frustrating scene. Then suddenly Anna stops shrieking to make an observation:

"Hmmm, my snot tastes like coconut milk."

The three of us freeze for a second before dissolving into laughter and I get to enjoy the moment before Rachel decides to express her joy by shoving Anna in the chest for no apparent reason. And I'm back to the battle.

1 comment:

  1. ...and that's why we only do that twice a week.