Bubble Bath Bedlam
By Mickey
Completed 2/02/2009
Archive Permission: Ask first. I'll probably say yes.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Word Count: 494
Author's Notes: Written for the stargatekiddrabbles list's 4-word challenge. The theme is bath time, the words are: Bubbles, Alphabet, Tugboat & Torpedo. Bonus Word: Kaleidoscope. Many thanks to Cheryl for the beta.
"Daddy, look, pretty!" My kid squeals with delight. Curiosity getting the better of me, I race back into the bathroom to see my three year-old sitting in the tub with bubbles up to his chin. There're also bubbles all over the floor, halfway up the cabinets and toilet.
Crap! I can hear that the water running in the tub again, full blast. I lean over and slap the knob down, cutting off the flow of water before it can spill onto the floor and stopping the formation of any new bubbles.
The foam alphabet letters Sara brought Charlie a few days ago are lost somewhere in the sea of bubbles. I swear I was only gone a minute or two! Where did they all come from? It's rare that I get this time alone with Charlie; I'm away so often. I'd forgotten how quickly little boys can find trouble, even in the most innocent of situations, and what a mess they can make while doing it.
Not only are there bubbles everywhere, they're in a kaleidoscope of colors.
Son -of a. . . .
I suddenly remember what could have caused this mess. But it can't be. I put them away under the sink, which has childproof latches, after I put some in his bath water in the beginning. I take a quick look at the sink and it looks like the door might be open. Hard to tell with all these damn bubbles though. I know I shut it all the way, so the latch did catch. I push the bubbles out of the way, as much as possible, in front of the sink.
Damn! Smart kid. The latch is undone and the door open. Just as I suspected, all three containers of colored bath tablets, red, blue and yellow, are gone. So is the bottle of Mr. Bubble's bubble bath soap.
Crap!
This is sooo not going to be fun to clean up. Sara is going to kill me, or laugh her ass off while I'm cleaning.
Probably both.
I turn back around in time to see my boy disappear beneath the bubbles. He comes back up with his little tugboat in one hand and his torpedo in the other. And how in the world did his pool toy get in the bathroom? Ya know, on second thought, I don't really think I want to know.
"Play wiff me, Daddy," he asks looking at me with pleading eyes and I know I'm licked. I can never say no when my kid looks at me like that.
Glad I'm wearing shorts instead of jeans, I kneel beside the tub and accept the toy Charlie hands me. "Sure, little man. Why not?"
As I begin playing with my son, all thoughts of cleaning the mess leave my mind. All I can think about right now is how to avoid having my boat "sunk" and how happy I am to have these precious moments with my little boy.
THE END