To bathe or not to bathe? This celebrity topic has me considering my family’s habits. I’ve determined they’re seasonal.
Back in February, there was very little bathing. Water conservation had nothing to do with it.
It got to the point where no one in the family was sure of the last time they took a bath or shower. Which often led me to issue a warning that we would all need to bathe soon. Although I never went as far as to say it had to be that day.
This didn’t come from a place of being anti-bathing, but from the same place of wearing sweatpants for a year.
Now we’re at the beach. I deem sand and indoor living very incompatible. We’re doing a minimum of 2 showers a day, maybe 3.
Awhile ago I learned about a friend who only showers her kids, no tubbies. I didn’t think that could be me. How could I take away the joy of playing in the tub?
Now I’m in there with the shower running, saying,
Didn’t they just spend the day playing in the ocean?
The advantage of the tubby is that it keeps RB contained for a minute until she decides to jump out. The disadvantage is that she really likes to poop in there. BB is still thrilled to have a tub with her. Maybe there is some love there.
It’s at least 2 showers a day because there is no way these kids can come in the house for lunch without a shower.
BB returns home with more sand covering her body than even seems possible. Gobs fall out when she takes off her swimsuit.
She’s the type of person who likes to go swimming and then makes sand angels. We’re talking wet hair, wet body, rolling and rolling in the dry sand. I can’t think of a better way to make sure you’re sandy for the rest of your life.
RB sits in the tub drinking as much bath water as she can, while BB picks seaweed out of her vagina and puts it on the side of the tub. She would prefer to hand it to me.
BB informs me,
“You know they sell special seaweed and you can take a seaweed bath to soften your skin?”
She’s learned about spa treatments from a neighbor. I gesture to the seaweed lined up on the side of the tub,
“What about this seaweed?”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot,
“NOOO. That was in my vagina.”
I get them out and send them on their way. I’m feeling efficient. If there’s ever a Ninja Warrior style competition that features drinking a beer, collecting beach gear, dragging it home, corralling 2 kiddos, bathing them, diapering, clothing, feeding and putting them to bed, I really think I’ve reached peak speed.
At 1:00am I jolt awake to,
“Mama… Mama!!! My vagina is itchy!”