Thursday, May 5, 2011

First Bubble Bath

I’ve gotten really bad at marking Luca’s firsts. I made such a big deal about Elijah’s first poop, smile or murder. But as with all second children, the firsts (ALTHOUGH JUST AS IMPORTANT, FUTURE LUCA WHO READS THIS) tend to get glossed over in favor of louder, more violent events.

So I’m proud to remember to announce Luca’s first official bubble bath.

Diana bought the boys some Dora The Explorer bubble bath the other day. It smells like strawberries instead of a small, Hispanic cartoon girl. Which is probably best.

Anyway, Elijah could not get his clothes off fast enough. He begged me repeatedly to let him turn on the tub’s jacuzzi jets and let the bubbles really fly. But I smartly ignored him.

I chased down Luca, nuded him up and held him over the tub. Based on the horror that crossed his face, I realized he had never been in a bubble bath before. I thought, “Meh, he’ll love it,” and dropped him in.

It’s not as though he hated it, but he did not like it. He stood in the tub with a perturbed look. He folded his little hands in front of his fat belly and minced around. I suddenly thought, “This is what my son will look like if he turns out to be a big queen when he grows up.” I also suddenly thought, “I hope he gets a better haircut if he turns out to be a big queen when he grows up.”

Eli sensed his brother was not happy with the bubbles, so he began smearing Luca with handfuls of the berry scented white stuff. Luca began shouting, “Out! Out! Out!”

I glared at Eli and hissed, “Can’t you see he hates that? Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Oh, sorry daddy.”

One of the things I love about Eli is his ability to take a joke to its breaking point. Seemingly oblivious to me just admonishing him about it, he grabbed two handfuls of bubbles and covered Luca’s fat belly, which resulted in fitful tears.

I yanked him out of the tub and quickly tried to towel off the bubbles. They were like a virus. Luca kept finding new patches of bubble and he’d shriek until I smooshed them with terrycloth.

Meanwhile, Eli poked his head over the tub wall and said, “Look daddy! I have a beard!” And he had a perfectly formed Van Dyke.

I had to admit, “That’s a pretty awesome beard, Eli.”

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