Gametes In Love

G is getting to a point where he’s soon going to outgrow his little baby tub. Not by size, don’t get me wrong, but by splash ability. We can’t seem to be able to get through a bath these days without G covering the walls with water or one (or both of us) being drenched.

So before the little tub gets exiled to the garage, I took some photos of bath-time.

S and I still do bath-time together. Although, yes, one person can do the job just fine (this has been proven), it’s more fun for us to do G’s bath-time as a family. S starts things off by getting the bathroom ready. Meanwhile I get G down to his birthday suit, and we do our bath-time song. It goes something like this:

We are gonna take a bath
Ruba-duba-dub
Where your bootie we will scrub
Ruba-duba-dub
And you’ll pee-pee in the tub
Rub-duba-dub

Ruba-duba…
Ruba-scruba…
Ruba-duba-dub

(I never did get around to coming up with a second verse. Maybe one of these days…)

Fluffy towels are the best.

Yertle, the turtle (point for the person who gets the reference)

Bath time: high fun!

Where the wet stuff comes in

Like the “Do”?

Bath time buddy #2: Miss Blue

Splash-time action:

And just think — this was almost a year ago.

…We’ve come a long way, baby!

Ok, it’s not as gross as you think. Since G was born, I’ve relied on S to be home before I can shower. Every time I even thought about it during the day, G would get fussy, or something would come up. Well, not today!

I waited for him to be fed and changed, which is generally a content period; I parked him in his bouncer right outside the bathroom door and jumped into the shower. It was a quick one — no shaving or washing my hair, but we’ll work ourselves up to those eventually too. So aside from the additional therapy G’s going to need for being subjected to seeing his mom naked, I think we’re good!