Bath Tub Time Machine

"If your kids are giving you a headache, follow the directions on the aspirin bottle. Especially the part that says 'keep away from children.'" ~Susan Savannah

It seems most parents love bath time. "It's so cute," they say. "It's so fun," they say.

It's so NOT, I say.

A few nights ago, my wife came home from work and offered to give our daughter a shower before dinner. I'm the chef in the family, so occasionally this is my reward. While I can't speak to exactly what happened upstairs, I can say the end result was a lot of crying from my daughter and shouting from my wife. And let me be clear: my wife is not a shouter. She's the patient one, the calm one. So something must have gone terribly wrong.

What happened was that our daughter failed to listen to anything, and the whole situation spiraled out of control to the point that my wife came downstairs by herself and said we should start dinner without our daughter because she was still upstairs crying... wet and naked.

Maybe we're in the minority, but bath time is the eating your Brussels sprouts of parenthood. It's another chore. More chaos to an already chaotic day.

And I have to admit, on most bath nights, I'll conveniently 'forget' to walk the dog before dinner. Yes... I would rather pick up my dog's feces than bathe my daughter. True story. When Luna and I return, the bath is already underway.

Manipulative? No.

Shrewd? Yes (and let's not forget modest).

Why do I feel this way about what so many consider a warm and delightful ritual of childhood?

If only it were this easy

The devil, as it turns out, is in negotiating the details. When we're going to take a bath. If we're going to take a bath (she tries to make this a negotiation but it never is). How long we're going to stay in the bath. Yeah... she fights getting into the bath, then she fights getting out.

And then there are some nights - I kid you not - when she doesn't want to get her hair wet. In the bath. Seriously. She's a miracle.

I think it's our fault. We exude annoyance on bath nights. And that's only three or four times a week. As a result, she doesn't want to do it either.

So now we do showers a lot. They get the job done... and in a fraction of the time.

We actually sell her on the shower too. We have to do that because you know, your hair is definitely getting wet early and often in a shower. How do we convince her of the benefits of showering? We tell her we'll have more time to play if she opts for it.

Those were the days

Manipulative? No.

Shrewd? Yes.

Sure, there was a time when bathing my daughter was enjoyable. Memorable... for good reasons. It was also before she spoke, expressed opinions, or had full control of her limbs.

But a shower is a much better alternative than a straight jacket.