Brusha, Brusha Toothbrush

Between the hours of 5:00 and 6:30 p.m. each day, my house often melts into complete chaos. I am not exactly sure why, but it does. Maybe my kids are tired, maybe they are hungry, or maybe it is a combination of the two for all three of us. Whatever the cause, our nightly bath, meal prep, and getting into bed routine can render me completely useless when it is all over.

Last night was no exception. My husband has been away on a business trip this week and by the time Friday night rolled around, I was super tired. Just get through these next few hours and everything will be fine, I kept telling myself. The house will be quiet and you can sit down with a cup of tea and watch Ghost Whisperer. (That’s right. You read that last statement correctly. I said Ghost Whisperer. I love the show and although I may be the only one in America watching, I never miss it.)

G has recently decided that he is not a fan of taking a bath any longer. In fact, I believe that if I did not force cleanliness upon him, he would be perfectly happy, very dirty, little boy. My approach to bath time is to get L in first, wash her, then coax G in, threaten/cajole/bribe/plead with him to use the soap, and finally get the two of them out.

As I sat at the rim of the tub last night washing L’s hair, G walked into the bathroom and announced that he was going to wash Mater’s teeth. He grabbed a toothbrush and proceeded to happily sing and scrub away at Mater’s two buck front teeth for several minutes. After I got him undressed, he said that he wanted to take the toothbrush with him into the bath. Sure, why not, I thought. L was at a point where her crying was becoming deafening, so I was happy to agree to something simple to keep G occupied.

As I left the bathroom, G yelled, “Mama, I’m using the toothbrush to wash myself. “ “Great, baby,” I replied. “Just make sure to do a good job.” “OK, Mama,” he shouted.

After having gotten L settled and happily playing with a few toys in the bedroom, I returned to the bathroom to inspect G’s work.

G: Mama, I’ll all done!
Me: Wow, looks good, baby. Good job!
G: I’m ready to get out. Get me ooooooouuuuuutttttttt!!!

As I was lifting G out of the tub, I glanced down and saw MY toothbrush floating in the tub. What?!?! I thought G was using the toothbrush that we keep at the bathroom sink for him to play with, but no. Turns out that was not the case. When asked, G explained, “I couldn’t reach my toothbrush, Mama, so I used yours.”

-Francesca