Have an emotionally and physically exhausting day.
Decide to take a bath.
Put all children to bed.
Wait 30 additional minutes for the child who always has one last thing to ask (“Where does Superman change clothes if there aren’t phone booths anymore?” “Why do these pants have dinosaurs on them?” “Is my birthday on a Tuesday next year?”) to come out and ask it.
Wait another 15 minutes for anybody to ask for the last glass of water or to take their last potty break.
Tiptoe to the bathroom.
Remove all bathtub toys from the bathtub.
Remove the soiled toddler undies you had hanging to dry over the edge of the tub.
Wipe dirt ring off the sides of the tub.
Find bubble bath. . . the kind that doesn’t have a picture of a yellow duck, Barbie or Spiderman on it.
Start the water.
Think maybe you heard somebody crying.
Turn off the water.
Can’t hear anything.
Turn back on the water.
Think maybe you heard somebody REALLY crying.
Turn off the water.
Still can’t hear anything.
Turn back on the water.
Debate about locking the bathroom door or not. Decide not to lock the door in case of an emergency.
Start to get undressed.
SURPRISE! A child WAS crying and now they’re busting through the door.
Try to awkwardly comfort child while getting redressed.
Put them back to bed.
LOCK THE DOOR.
Undress.
Turn off the water.
Get in the bath.
Hear frantic knocking at the door.
Try redirecting child to go find Daddy.
Child is having a bathroom emergency and cannot be redirected.
Throw on a towel, trying not to slip as you get out of the tub.
Help child with their bathroom emergency while soaking wet and cold.
Send child back to bed.
Reenter the bath.
Start that book you’ve been dying to have some alone time to read.
Remember you didn’t lock the door.
Husband bursts through the door and terrifies you.
You scream and almost drop your book into the tub.
Husband finds this hilarious.
Husband makes many suggestive jokes.
Husband leaves.
Continue reading your book.
Your eyelids get really heavy.
It seems like maybe you could rest them for just a second and then get back to reading.
You wake up ten minutes later with a soggy book.
Water is cold.
Grab slightly damp, hooded ducky towel.
Decide never to take a bath again.
At least until the children have left home.