Kids = dirt and filth. It’s an unmistakable fact. Despite this, I try to only bathe them every other day. I just hate bathing them. Even though it’s a bit better since I started separating them, it’s still damn messy. Now it’s just more time-consuming supervising two bath events rather than one.
I bathed my son last night. Stella “didn’t want to get wet,” so she promised to shower tonight, sans complaint. That being said, tonight should have been a breeze: it was an early dismissal (TWO MORE DAYS), so after chilling this afternoon, watching Ink Master, and staging dinner, I could run out with Stella to grab the dude, put her in the shower when we got home, and finish dinner.
Things didn’t work out that way. When I arrived at his school, his scalp was loaded with sand and glitter – about a 50/50 ratio. Dammit. It really was just too much to ignore. At that point I threw caution to the wind and gave him one of his most favorite things: frozen blueberries. The kid will eat them by the pint. Too bad he looks like a smurf when he’s done. No matter. Since he needed to cleanse himself of the scalp full of sparkly sand, what harm could come from blueberries? Yeah. I’m a genius. There’s a purple ring around my tub and minuscule dunes comprised of sand and glitter all over the bottom.
I did sweep my floors. I had to. Sand was everywhere from when I took off his diaper, exposing a butt so covered in sand it almost looked like a pasty sugarplum – a stark contrast to his livid hands and face. So at this point, my children and floors are semi-clean. My kids’ tub most definitely is not.
There are no winners here.