Recipe for disaster

Add several gallons of warm water to a large container. Add baby oil, bubble bath and balneum. Test water is correct temperature. Add children and marinate until you are thoroughly wet and annoyed. Light blue touch paper. Retire.

Somehow bath time is my job. Sure you can say that the Wife had eighteen months of pregnancy (not all in one go, obviously) and went through the pain of childbirth (without anaesthetic the second time round). But don't forget a) I brought the sperm and b) I do bath time. I'm sure you'll agree, I win. Or I lost. Or something.

Anyway. When you see bath time on adverts its nothing but fun and bubbles and soft towels and occasionally Domestos. In reality, as these things often are, its a nightmare. My Kids have bath time just after tea time (for non-UK residents - that means dinner. Or cena. Or  время ужина - hello Russians!) so things normally get off to a bad start with


"I don't want a bath" 


Occasionally with the rationale


"I don't need a bath. I mean, the cleaner at school is rubbish so I had to lick myself clean today. But I'm clean."


Once I've managed to get them up the stairs (normally by dragging them) the arduous task of getting them undressed begins. Now I'll admit that the first time the Kids try to take their jumpers off, get it stuck over their eyes and blunder into a wall or door frame, it makes you laugh. Repeat each night and you'll be gouging your own eyes out in frustration. Eventually they'll get their kit off and complain its too cold, to which I came up with the brilliant plan of getting them to jump on our bed to keep warm while the bath fills up. Naturally this backfired in a fairly spectacular why. You see cold air does strange things to Kids. It makes them need the loo. So within a minute both of them queue up at the toilet to empty themselves out. Normally, this is when the Boy likes to have a poo. However, if I'm not on the ball, he'll be in and out of the loo without wiping his bum before I can stop him running back into our bedroom and leaving "chocolate kisses" all over the duvet cover. 


Moreover, bouncing on the bed will invariably end up with an injury. The two most recent of which were


"Dad! The Boy just kicked me off the bed with my foot."
"He... what? How?"
"Don't know..."


Or even more bizarrely


"OW! I just bit my ear!"


Finally you get them in the bath, which generally leads to arguments over bath toys, and someone (often me) getting bonked angrily over the head with a plastic boat. I don't mind that so much because its better than the conversations. Naked children have very weird, very disturbing conversations. The Girl, for instance, was convinced she was a Boy and spent many bath times looking for her winkle. Quite thoroughly. I'm British. I'm not emotionally equipped for that kind of thing. But even that was better than the following conversation with the Boy

"Wow, this bath is deep. Its right up to my boobies!"
"You don't have boobies, Boy. Girls have boobies. Actually can we not talk abo-"
"I've got small boobies, but the Girl's going to have MASSIVE boobies like mummy."
"Right. Ok. What did you do at pre-school tod-"
"I think the Girl has a baby in her tummy."
"Nooooooo..... no she doesn't."
"But when I get older I'll put a baby in her tummy."
"Stop talking. Really. Stop talk-"
"Did you put the Girl in mummy's tummy?"
"Er... yes."
"Oh. How did you get her eyes in?"


I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting the birds and the bees talk quite so early. Or so weird. There are no correct answers to this kind of line of questioning, although there are a lot of wrong answers. I went for stoney silence. The route of the coward.

Naturally, having argued with them to get in the bath, they don't want to get out again. And if you manage to get them out, then getting them dressed will lead to

"IF YOU DON'T GET DRESSED I'LL TAKE YOUR TOYS AWAY!"
"If you do that I'll stick frogs up your bum."