My son is now old enough to take a bath on his own. Sort of. He still requires some supervision and, since we prefer to keep the bathroom floor dry, assistance reaching the removable spout when washing his hair.
Typically, when it is his turn to take a bath, we let him get in and play for a while before washing his hair and helping him finish up. After all, he may be a big mature 8 year-old at school but he’s not above a few bath toys and some time to goof around in the safe confines of his own home.
Last night FrankenKristin drew his bath and left him to his own devices while I finished cleaning up the kitchen and helping his sister with her homework. After a time, I went to check on him and noticed that he only had one item with him in the tub. However, instead of the typical, action figure, squirt gun, floating dinosaur, or boat made of Legos, he had what looked like a large plastic cylindrically-shaped test tube type thing. Where it came from and how it got in the bath tub I have no idea.
Upon seeing this object in his hand my first thought was, “I hope he doesn’t put that thing on his penis.” The thought had not even completely formed in my head before he proudly exclaimed, “Look Dad, my winkie has a submarine!” At which time proceeded to join the two objects, submerging them both underwater. All the while making one of those “VRRRSSHHRRROOM!!” sounds that is apparently customary for large underwater vessels.
The dictatorial father in me would have scolded him for such lewd behavior. Or I could have left him filled with embarrassment by informing him that his is hardly large enough to be called a submarine. I might have even reminded him the more accurate euphemism is torpedo. Instead I simply looked at him and said, “Be careful, you don’t want to get that thing stuck in there.”
I turned to walk away and resisted, with every fiber of my being, the desire to burst out in laughter.