Cleaning the Tub (0 Comments)
I decided it was high time to clean the shower in the Master Bath. I know it’s autumn but I don’t think the tub should be decorated in orange and brown even at this time of the year.
I bought a new shower liner, took the old one down, washed the pretty outer part and sprayed down the tub.
As I started to work TG decided to join me.
“Are you cleaning Papa’s shower?”
Yep.
She kneels down next to me.
“This is Papa’s shower but he lets you use it.”
Yep, Papa is nice that way. He also “lets” me clean it.
“There’s your stinky butt.”
It’s just my back and butts aren’t stinky.
“Are you cleaning the tub?”
Yep.
“There’s your stinky butt, again.”
Honey, we don’t say butts are stinky and in this house we use the term “bum.”
She breathes the fumes in deeply and I cringe thinking that when she gets lung cancer, I will remember this moment with horror.
Why don’t you go outside?
“No!”
Why don’t you get dressed?
After much fussing about she takes off her nighty and gets her pants on.
“Will you snap my pants?”
My head is stuck in the tub still and my gloved hands are all wet and dirty.
Ah, no.
“Snap my pants!”
You’ll have to wait until my hands aren’t dirty and wet.
“Look at me!”
She’s standing with her head on the floor and her bum up in the air.
I have to look to get her to stop saying it over and over.
Why don’t you put your shirt on?
“No, my pants aren’t snapped.”
Yes, why don’t you get your shirt on and brush your teeth while you wait for me?
“But my pants aren’t snapped.”
Sigh.
Finally, the job is done, I get her pants snapped and her shirt on. After her version of “looking” for her shoes is over (playing with other stuff while saying she can’t find her shoes) she finally goes outside leaving me to wonder how I ever got stuff done without all this help.
