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“What kind of toys do we need for bath time?” That question was not as easy as I thought it would be and he was still debating the answer as we finished loading the dishes together.
For some reason, Russie only did spoons and cups, but I wasn’t going to debate little logic when he was still trying to decide if we needed fish toys or superheroes.
“Um, fishes, Daddy?” He didn’t seem entirely sure about that answer as we headed toward his playroom to find toys, but I thought it was perfect.
“They’ll be so much fun. You’re so smart.” That had him letting out a deep breath like he’d solved world peace, so I took that to mean we’d figured out the toys. “Do fishes swim in bubbles?”
Thankfully that was not a difficult question.
“DoesDaddylike bubbles?”
It just didn’t get me the answer I was expecting.
“Daddy isn’t a fish.” My response had giggles pouring out of him as he found a big pile of plastic fish and sea creatures.
“Daddy’s the biggest fish.” Scooping up a variety of random toys, he shoved them into my hands. “Bubbles?”
“Yes, Daddy likes bubbles.” Kissing his nose, I followed my now bouncing boy as he hopped toward the bathroom. “Walking, please. If you fall and bump your head, I’ll worry.”
He couldn’t argue with that but he could be dramatic.
So while he walked, he pouted and sighed and went very,veryslowly. “I careful, Daddy. See?”
Holding out his arms like he was on a tightrope, somehow he managed to make just walking through the house look dangerous. “No falling. No crash. No crunch.”
Groaning just brought his giggles back.
“I do not want to know why that ended with a crunch.” He had a terrible sense of humor because he just kept laughing as we finally made it to the bathroom in one piece.
“Crunch.” He slapped his hands together like he’d hit the floor and then laughed and laughed. “Crunch.”
My slightly horrified expression might’ve made it funnier to Russie but getting that under control was hard.
Crunch.
Ugh, that was worse than splat.
Thankfully, turning on the water and getting the bubbles going saved me. “Look at how big they’re getting. Let’s get you ready.”
Getting him naked was easy but getting him to use the potty had him wiggling and studying the tub like it was fascinating. “Potty time.”
Luckily, my slightly pee-shy boy was saved by the stove starting to beep. “Shoot.”
I’d genuinely forgotten about the cookies, so I gave him a quick cheek kiss and hurried out of the bathroom. “Wait by the tub after you go potty. I don’t want you to slip.”
“Good boy, Daddy.” Russie’s enthusiastic response was probably fueled by relief since he had a reason to go potty by himself, and he was very glad to be all done when I came back from getting the cookies out and turning off the oven.
“Yes, you were a very good boy.” One who was even waiting to get his hands washed, so I quickly turned off the water in the tub and helped get him all clean. “And now my good boy is all clean.”
“Good boys get lots of cookies, Daddy.” Kissing my cheek, Russie gave me a bright, manipulative smile. “I was big good. I waited.”
“Thank you.” I did my best to ignore the cookie question by stripping off his T-shirt. “Let’s get you in the bubbles.”
It worked.
But not in the way I’d intended.
“Daddy too!” As Russie’s shirt was tossed toward the laundry basket, he reached for mine. “Daddy likes bubbles. I ’member.”
