Every day I wake up and take a shower. It’s part of the waking up process, its work time; it’s a task and mildly enjoyable if for the only reason that the kids are still asleep and not acting like animals. By this time in life, maybe long before, cleaning oneself is a chore to be done daily and without joy.
To children under the age of 3 however bath time is party time. My kids love splashing everything and everyone. Their doughy little legs kick and kick and kick like Olympic swimmers. We have one of those stupid sliding glass doors on the shower rather than a curtain, I hate it, but I love it during baths. When its bath time the door is shut, and I stand there to make sure it stays shut lest there be an inch of water on the floor. There is a lot of excitement surrounding bath time.
Recently it was bath time and the wife herded the boys into the bathroom and began stripping them down. That in and of itself is fun for them, the nakedness. It allows them to play with….*ahem*….appendages, that aren’t usually accessible to them and they take advantage, bordering on abuse. I keep telling them to take it easy, “you’re going to need that someday”. But they don’t listen.
While diapers and clothes were coming off the water was warming up and filling the tub. Children are not known for being patient so once there was an inch of water in the tub the demand to be put in it had grown, loudly. So in they went. I was watching from the doorway as the moment became too much for the eldest and his excitement took a physical form.
“Hey, mama, he’s peeing.”
“Yeah, I know, he does it all the time. Something about the running water just makes them both let loose in the tub”, was the exasperated response. Mama grew up with sisters so she isn’t used to the everyday life of dirty, grubby boys. She is confused and frightened by their mysterious ways.
The boy noticed he was being watched and began to laugh. Then I began to laugh. Then boy number two began to laugh. Mama did what she does and rolled her eyes then ushered me out of the doorway and closed the door.
The laughing didn’t stop once I was gone, nor did the splashing.
I took a seat at the table and surfed around for a bit all the while listening to the pool party in the tub. The screaming and splashing and laughing and playing was reaching a fever pitch and the volume was increasing in there quickly until Mama decided it was time for her to be heard. Now, I’m not fluent in Serbian yet so I don’t know what was said at the time, all I heard was;
“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, BLAH, BLAH, BLAAAAAH, VODA!”
Voda, meaning water, was the only word I caught so she could have said anything. It got quiet in the bathroom long enough for her say through the closed door,
“My gawd! Why are you guys so gross? They both just keep laughing and drinking the frickin’ bath water they peed in! I swear I’m going to puke!”
My guess is she yelled something about not drinking the water?
To my dear wife I say, it is only going to get worse. They will find new ways to gross you out.