get out of that bathtub

Okay, baths = good.

We like kids clean.

But does it need to take two hours?

I finally yelled outside the door, "Get out! We have things to do today. It's OVER!"

Then the little voice, "Mom, I have a question."

Oh, gosh, seriously?  I peeped my head in the door.

There's a little soaking wet, naked kid in the tub with a serious look on her face.

"Mom, look over there behind the plunger."

"I don't have on my glasses. I can see the plunger, but what are we talking about here?"

" A daddy long-legs!"

And me, mean old bag that I am kind of hollered, "He's not even looking at you!  Get out of the tub!"

(Yes I know. If I can't even see the spider how do I know who he's looking at?) Diplomatic child, she didn't point this out.

She just went by now, through our room to the stairway, wrapped in a towel, survived obviously.  

I've been called to look at, and be ordered to kill, many, many innocent spiders over the years. I'm not killing them!  Spiders up in their webs, bothering no one?  Actually, they're pretty cool.

Sometimes I'll take a bunched up Kleenex and swish them out the window, but that's all.  

Okay, and see that pretty baby in the carseat?

She has confinement issues. Strap her on her back in that chair and she sets up a full revolt.

Tim and Julia park her in the middle in the backseat, and that's when the show starts. They try to placate her with the bottle.

Today she threw it, overhand. They laughed.

They give her toys, which she bites and growls and then throws back in their faces.

Good thing our trips in the car are short.

It's an excellent-looking Monday and now I must go work a while.

I miss you kids when I'm gone. love you so, Momma-Gramma.