“It makes cool bubbles!”

I’m physics-challenged. I tend to, from time to time, expect the world around me to behave like a RoadRunner cartoon; I can “pick up” a rake by stepping on the tines (no), if a hill in an unfamiliar town is steep enough, I’ll simply start careening down it, end over end, until I land in a canyon or gorge or bay (maybe!!!), or feet will stop a bike that has no brakes long before I get to that garage door (I think I can still see the dents in the door).

So when I get any version of “Hey mom, watch THIS” … I get worried. Because I’m sure the kids will find some way to creatively damage themselves that I or my siblings and cousins haven’t managed yet.

When Wolfie asked to show me his new toy that “made bubbles” I was only half-worried. The bubbles should have long popped in the tub, but he’d managed to fix the problem (of no more bubbles). He’d brought a few new toys in the bath with him, but I wasn’t sure exactly which one would make bubbles.

I stopped in the doorway of the bathroom as the smell hit me. Watermelon. Lots and lots of fake watermelon. He’d snagged a nearly full bottle of kid shampoo slash bubble bath and filled it with water, over and over, squirting out more and more bubbles until the water looked as if a tanker of fragrant oils had run aground and spilled its contents everywhere.

Pretty bubbles, lots of pretty bubbles. And he’s declared himself “squeaky clean”. Time to get a few towels and sop off the watermelon sludge. Then keep future bottles of kid soap a little emptier or further away.

ETA: Wolfie is still not very fond of showers, even when oiled up like a sardine fresh from the can. We compromised once he exited the tub. Using a very wet wash cloth and buckets of water to wipe and rinse, we got rid of that glossy shine.