Now I love love love my boys. I love their hugs and kisses.
Their laughter. Their rough and tumble play. Their flair for discovery.
Their great wonderment when experiencing the world.
I admire their bravery in general.
But their bathroom etiquette? Not so much. And by not so much, I mean not at all.
I discovered this great male/female divide soon after Scott and I got married.
I found a lack of respect for product in the male species.
My friend, Shelly, had given me some expensive moisturizer as a gift.
I treasured it. I read the instructions and when it said "use a dime size portion"
for your face and neck, I used a dime size portion for my face and neck.
I was surprised at how quickly I was using the bottle even with my careful usage.
Until I walked in on Scott using it to slather up his face and head like a lifeguard lotioning up for a day at the beach.
I think I squawked. Out loud. And started quoting prices and reciting the instructions, "Dime size portions...DIME SIZE!"
Scott has one lotion philosophy. If a little is good...a lot is better.
I now take care to hide any product over $5.
Now the boys have followed in their father's footsteps,
ignoring good toiletry principles and such.
If I am not watching with an eagle eye an entire bottle of shampoo is used in one bath. Full bottles of hand soap are emptied in a day and all of this is managed without anyone actually getting any cleaner.
Then there is the bathroom cleanliness issue.
Let's not talk about it. It makes me too sad inside.
Let's just say that my senses are assaulted on a daily basis and not in a good way.
I will say to Scott's credit that he cleans the bathrooms in our home. He is magic. I love him with an everlasting love because of his deep cleaning abilities.
Which leaves us with the last issue that I have when it comes to sharing the bathroom with boys and that is the unnecessary usage of household items in the tub.
Just this morning I was in a rush to get ready and when I went to use the shampoo,
I found it wired shut by a slinky.
This was after I had already cleared the bathtub of the top half of a fishing pole and some hot wheels.
As I did not have my contacts in, extracting the shampoo from full slinky lock down was tricky. I was not amused.
Nor was I amused when I went in the other bathroom and noticed that the faucet in that tub was rigged with a giant squirt gun and a black shoe lace.
Apparently, taking a bath is not just taking a bath to young boys, it is a tour of a dangerous watery underworld that requires fishing gear and aquatic weapons.
This is why I have come to the conclusion that I need a spa day. Yep.
I need to use a bathroom that smells like roses
and bathe somewhere that is not trip wired.
I think I'll start dropping some hints...my birthday is only 2 months away.