It is no secret to parents everywhere that one of the most difficult tasks to accomplish when you are home alone with a two year old is the daily shower taking. Young children either do not want to allow you out of their sight, or else can’t wait for you to occupy yourself so that they can burn the house down. Sometimes both. This is why every shower is an exciting new adventure.
Normally I have this shower thing down pretty well. I set Edward up on the couch with his drink, some snacks, and his favorite show of the moment on the television. Then I sneak upstairs and get into the shower, where I have approximately thirty seconds of peace before he bursts in and tries to eat all the toothpaste. It’s a good system.
Today he decided to try something new. Maybe it was because he had a bath last night, but Edward decided to make sure that my shower was going well this morning. I first noticed this when a small red tablet flew into the shower and started fizzing and spreading throughout the half an inch of water I was standing in.
“Need colors Daddy?” a voice asked. He gets to have fun colors in his tubby, so I guess he thought I should as well.
“Yes, thank you!” I called back. “Now go watch Mickey Mouse!”
“Need more colors Daddy?”
“No!” Now I had to stick my head out to make sure he was not going to dump the whole bin of color tablets into the tub. He didn’t, and I had another minute of peace before he pulled back the curtain and stuck his head in.
“Need clean you toes!” He was holding a little scrubby brush that one would use to clean under finger and toe nails, and waving it violently at me as all the nice warm air and steam rushed out of my personal space.
“No thank you,” I declined politely.
“Need clean you TOES!” he shouted, and tried to climb into the shower.
“Okay, okay,” I gave in, putting my foot up on the side of the tub so that he could clean my toes.
“Now you OTHER toes!” Fine, fine, I put my other foot up, hoping this would satisfy him.
“Don’t foget you FINGAS!”
So I had to give him both of my hands so that he could scrub under my fingernails. When he wanted to wash my hair, I decided that the shower was over and it was time to get out. I pulled the curtain back, and there he was, ready with my towel.
“You all wet, Daddy? You need get dry?”
I don’t think I want this trend to continue, but at least I know that he is learning how to clean himself, and that’s a good thing, right? And maybe someday I will be able to shower in peace again. Like when he moves out.