Scroll back a year or two on HamannEggs and you’ll notice a lot of posts about me (or Diana) with Elijah in the tub. Despite my brother’s revulsion and the occasional “Caddy Shack” moment, bathing with the boy is usually hilarious and fun. Despite usually exiting the tub dirtier than going in.
So I was wondering how the old bath time would evolve now that we added Luca to the family. Namely, how would my rapidly fattening self would cram into a smaller than average tub plus a urinating three year old, plus a urinating 5 month old. Not to mention the now required 10 Star Wars guys, four sharks, three turtles, Dory and Nemo from “Finding Nemo” and other various plastic things in the process of getting covered in black mold.
It ain’t easy, but we can do it. It does, however, involve covering our bathroom floor with two inches of bath water. I usually lay Luca across my lap, which helps keep him from drowning. Plus it hides my genitals when Diana feels that it’s too cute a moment not to capture on our digital camera.
Luca, in particular, loves it. It’s the 20 minutes a day where he isn’t 99.9% encased in a onsie. He has yet to master the art of self depantsing like his brother. He kicks and laughs and splashes and makes those cuter than cute noises.
Eli, on the other hand, doesn’t care for the three man tub. Because it’s cramping his nightly Star Wars battle with me. It’s hard for him to fight me for the future of that galaxy far, far away when there is a chubby pink splash machine between you and your arch enemy.
I solved this problem by adding Luca into the Star Wars battle. We’ve created a game where the bad guys try to attack Luca from land, air and urine and it’s up to Eli to stop them. Luca is basically our WWII Great Brittan. Wait. I just mixed my tub metaphors.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Eli stopping the bad guys. He does this by basically shouting, “Pew pew!” over and over. I then toss Eli’s victims across the tub and go, “Aeiiiiiiiiii.” Which Elijah considers the most hilarious joke in the history of man. And it never, ever gets old. Long after our tub has turned grey and ice cold Eli will beg, “One more, dad!”
On the rare occasion the bad guys actually make it to Luca, they essentially catch their breath on his fat stomach until Eli can pick them off with his lasers. It’s a terrible battle plan. Now I know why the Empire lost the war.
To save your eyeballs from burning out of their sockets, I’ve opted out of showing another me and the boys tub photo. Plus it’s too depressing for me to look at.
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