Lather Me Up

In all of Gods creations, there has to be nothing more difficult than bathing children. I have three of the wonderful little beings, and I am nightly reminded that He is getting even with me for all of the trouble I caused in my youth. Getting these little suckers clean can be, at best, an adventure, and at the least, a chore equal to mowing the lawn with a pair of safety scissors.

First, you have to round the little boogers up. Ah, this sounds so easy. But only to those that don’t have kids. Did you know there are approximately 3,496 different places to hide in the house when daddy says it’s bath time? And did you know that a 3 year old can figure out where the 2 that you don’t know about are? Yep, I end up running around the house threatening to cause hindly harm, only to finally get inside the bathroom and find 2 children hidden in the laundry hamper. And they are giggling at me. And nekkid as a jaybird. Boys definitely are the goofier sex.

Now that I have them in the bathroom, I must close the door and secure it with 4 chains, 5 dead bolts, and a chair, lest one of them throws soap in my eyes and runs for freedom yelling “I am nekkid! Where are the finger paints?” This can really be embarrassing if you have company over.

Well, once they are secured, I have to start the water. It is a little known fact that if you attempt to make the water warm, a 6 year old will swear that it is hotter than boiling oil. And if you do not attempt to make it warm, a 3 year old will swear that it is so cold that he can make ice cream. Hence this becomes a constant battle of temperature manipulation. Finally, after hours of putting in cold, letting out cold, and adjusting the hot, you will arrive at a point where the water is just fine, provided you can ignore the constant torture that one of them is going through.

With the temperature quandary out of the way, you now find yourself on hair washing detail. I reach out for the no more tears shampoo, only to find that I have just discovered where all of those bubbles came from last time they bathed. The bottle is full of nothing but water. So, now I am forced to use adult shampoo, which is, of course, complete torture to a small child, as they do not want to smell like an apple.

If you are not aware, the head of a small boy is pretty much an environmental magnet. You have no idea all of the things that will end up there. If they had some candy that day, you can bet the their hair needed a taste. If they played in the yard, the yard came inside with them. And if someone within 3 miles was chewing gum, rest assured that the gum will tunnel underground and find a way to attach itself to a place in the child’s head that, if you cut it out, will cause other people to think that you must drink and play with scissors.

After the head is clean, you have to do the body. While this sounds easy, one must note that anywhere the soap touches immediately becomes the most ticklish spot on the body, which causes the unstoppable squirms. This then becomes a game kind of like trying to hold an eel. The child wiggles, giggles, squirms, goes up and down, turns around, and does his best to try to make you drop the soap. Finally, after feeling like you have just wrestled with an anaconda, you will have a clean child. You then dry the child off, only to discover that, as you were reaching for his night clothes, he climbed up in the chair, undid all the locks, and is now standing at the front door, which you forgot to close, completely nekkid, and telling the world that cleanliness may be next to Godliness, but nekkid is only good when it can be pressed against a cold see-through glass screen door.

I do not know if any of you have ever had a ferret, but for those of you who have, you know how they are after a bath. It’s like shooting a hamster full of adrenaline. This is the exact way that a small boy acts after a bath. You would think he had just won the Super Bowl, what with all the hoopin’ and hollerin’ and dancing around in his underwear. Because of this, it is never recommended to give the child a bath just before bedtime, as neither of you will get any sleep. He will be dancing on the ceiling, and you will be hunting for the duct tape to try to get him to stick to the bed. When he finally does relax and go to sleep, you will be left feeling like a derailed freight train.

As you begin to lay into bed, with visions of sugarplums dancing in your head, you do feel a sense of accomplishment at having finally achieved a state of cleanliness upon such a dirt attracting object. And as you snuggle close with your satisfaction, that’s when it hits you.
Oh geez. I have to do this again tomorrow night.

Changes Begin In your Own Backyard

The world has changed a lot since I was a kid. We used to go outside at 7 in the morning and not come back inside until dark. We played, made things out of pine straw, and talked to each other until we were sick of hearing each other. Then the next day we would do it again. Why? Because that’s all we knew.

Today, kids have many options. They have cable and satellite TV, the Internet, DVDs, VCR’s, PlayStations, X-Box’s, and heaven knows what else. They can sit in the comfort of the couch and do and play all day, without ever even knowing what is out there!

But not my kids. Nooooooooooo.

I remember a time back when I decided that my kids were not going to be vegetables addicted to some screen. I was determined to make little farmers out of them, and show them what their little minds could imagine, if they would only press “pause” and leave that little girl who breathes fire and eats toadstools. So, I drug them kicking and screaming into the yard.

“Daddy, what is this green stuff I am walking on” my son asked.
“Duh! It’s carpet” replied my daughter.
“Well then you are dropping cheeto crumbs on it. And now Mom is going to make us vacuum this whole thing. Thanks a lot” he shot back at her.

Dazed, but not totally out of it, I pressed on. I showed them what a tree was. They said no, that was not a tree, because it did not look like the one in the Harry Potter movie. I showed them a rose, and again, they said roses have long stems, so I must be mistaken. Then I showed them our dogs, at which point they laughed and said “Daddy, you got ripped off, cause Benji is a dog, and these two certainly look nothing like Benji.”

Next, I showed them a field and show them how to plant. They were amazed that I was digging holes in the floor. I showed them my shop, and they were wondering when I was going to paint the walls and add curtains. I even tried to get them to ride on the tractor, but they said it was unsafe because it didn’t have doors or seatbelts.

It was then that I realized that my work was cut out for me. Over the next few weeks, we spent hours outside, with them learning that dogs do not use a litter box (so watch your step), cows do not like to be pulled on, and that a “rabbit foot” actually comes from real rabbits.” Wow!” my son said. “That must be one lucky rabbit. He has 4 of them.” I left it at that.

Anywho, after a while of forcing the children to live in the great fenced outside, they finally started to use their imaginations. They built things out of straw and stick, dug for buried treasure, and even played hide-and-go-seek right there in their own back yard. And I must admit that I was very proud when my 2 year old beamed “this is more fun than dodging a fireball while jumping over the monkey”. I think that means he’s finally enjoying the outdoors the way we used to as kids.
Then again, that might be why the I found the dog eating a burnt banana the other day.