Since the days when Elijah would go through literally 7 changes of onesies in a 24 hour period, I’ve often wondered if Diana’s extreme clean freakness would prevent our son from enjoying the grubbiness that makes boys, boys. A little too much hand scrubbing here, a little too much hair combing there and next thing you know you're at the mall pricing size 3T plastic bubbles.
Thankfully, Diana embraced Eli’s need to get filthy wholeheartedly. At the end of any given day, he will look like a street urchin, chimney sweep or any other character in Disney’s delightful depictions of disease-ridden London of the 1800’s.
By the time we tossed Eli into the tub Saturday night, he was more dirt than boy. We knew a simple soak in a bubble bath wouldn’t cut it. So it was shower time. I decided to join him, because I was filthy myself. I had spent a large portion of the day pretending to be a suburban dad, painting windows, drinking beer, scratching, etc.
As soon as I got in the tub and watched Eli go nuts with our hand shower thing, I got struck in my brain bean by a fantastic idea.
“Hey, Eli. Wash dada,” I said pointing at myself.
“Huh?”
“Spray me with the shower thing.”
“What?”
But suddenly, Elijah remembered a Sesame Street documentary where they rinsed elephants off at the Brooklyn zoo. And he got to work. And wouldn’t you know? He did a heck of a job.
p.s. I looked and looked for a photo that would be more embarrassing when he’s an adult than a story about washing his father. Nailed it!
p.s.s Thanks a lot for everyone who puts comments on the blog. It’s the highlight of my day to see them. I have no idea how to respond to you individually, but I really appreciate it.
2 comments:
This reminds me of that scene in First Blood where they took the fire hose to John Rambo.
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