Written by: Josh December 09 2011 Bub had his first shower yesterday. Too soon, you say? Ehhhh, what can I tell you? The kid really wanted a shower. I based this on the following scenario: […]
Written by: Josh December 09 2011
Bub had his first shower yesterday. Too soon, you say? Ehhhh, what can I tell you? The kid really wanted a shower. I based this on the following scenario: I myself was taking a shower, as I try to do at least once a week. Bub usually permits this kind of behavior to happen on his watch without much interference. He sits on the bathroom floor, plays with the lotion bottle, the empty toilet paper roll. Toys.
But yesterday he decided he’d been on the sidelines long enough. It was time to find out exactly what was going on behind that great white curtain besides the occasional Peekaboo. He crawled over to the head of the tub, stood up and rather forcefully yanked the curtain back. Peekaboo back at you, Daddy. Weird. Naked.
I gave him an awkward smile, redirected him to a sitting position, inserted toy in hand. Twenty seconds later, he was back like McRib. We went through the steps of this sad little waltz a couple more times, but the deck was stacked against me.
For you see, he had spotted the Master Controls, i.e. the hot and cold taps, and was determined to commandeer my ship, like some sort of micro-pirate. I tried to assure him I could land the ship safely, but he was not to be denied. The boy can have a one-track mind sometimes, and it’s hard to supplant subterfuge when you’re dripping wet in the shower. Limits the options. Basically, he forced my hand.
This was also exacerbated by the fact that the longer he stood there, the wetter he got. And the longer he held the curtain back, the wetter the floor started to get. So I caved. As he’s generally hygienically somewhere between mildly offensive and utterly repulsive, I figured it couldn’t hurt anyway. So I reached over and stripped him down, diaper and all.
He immediately peed on the floor. Premature urination. It happens to all of us, Bub. This was not going well so far. But we pressed on anyway, on our ill-planned adventure.
You know, sometimes the sun comes out and warms you gently back to sleep on the couch. And sometimes you find yourself standing in the shower, holding a pee-stained baby, wondering how things had gone so awry. I hadn’t really thought this through, obviously. More of a Crazy Impulsive Daddy Move than an actual plan. What now? I had no idea. So I sat him down.
He sat there for a minute, looking up at me, confused as to why there was no water up to his chest and, additionally, why it seemed to be raining. He had, however, lost all interest in the Master Controls. So to that end, this little experiment was a smashing success.
I will say that washing him was much easier in the shower—quick and efficient. Then I picked him up and got him under the water to rinse. Not a big fan of this, for sure, but he endured. All for the greater good, whatever that may be. Not an experience we’ll be repeating anytime soon, but we’re all learning here. Some days that curve is longer than others.