I have to write about this, mostly because I can't stop laughing about it. I like to think that I am getting this whole parenting thing down but every now and again I get sent back to reality and usually rather quickly.
So I picked Harrison up the other day from the sitter's and headed home, trying to get him bathed and fed as quickly as possible because he was cranky and tired. I rushed home and threw everything in the house and quickly ran to get the bath ready. Because he is now getting his baths in the big bath tub, I have yet to get the water temperature down on the first try. So thinking I had the right mix of hot and cold I went in to get Harrison undressed. As I was undressing him, because he has a tendency to pee on me, I kept singing a little song called, "Don't pee on daddy" an ominous song looking back on it now.
We got into the bathroom to get in the bath and I realized the bath water was a little cool, so I turned the heat up and I started stirring the water to mix up the cooler water. So there I was, sitting on the edge of the tub contorted with one arm in the water trying to mix the hot with the cold and one arm holding Harrison, as he was leaning over trying to play with the curtain. All of a sudden I heard a sound like water hitting my jeans, I started laughing and asked Harrison if he had just peed on daddy. Well, as I looked down I realized it wasn't pee. He barely got my jeans but it was all over the floor and bath mat. So I quickly held him high up in the air, like if I do that it will all go away, anyway, there I am holding him up like Simba in the Lion King over Pride Rock, looking at the floor, not really sure what to.
So I quickly set him in the water, afraid that there was more to come, and started trying to figure out how I could clean it up without letting Harrison drown. I thought about running to get paper towel but the whole time I am thinking, two inches, thirty seconds, two inches, thirty seconds a baby can drown in two inches of water in thirty seconds, so I knew I didn't have time to run to the kitchen. Meanwhile the stench was killing me, so I started trying to get my jeans off. Because our bathroom basically opens up to our laundry closet I quickly grabed some old rags and wiped up the floor. I started the washer and threw the mats in, mind you, I am hedging between the washer and the tub making sure that Harrison is still sitting up afraid to get too far away. I started kicking my shoes off and tearing off my jeans to get undressed and get them in the washer as well. The whole time H is looking at me with his fist in his mouth like I am some kind of crazy man.
I finally got everything in the washer and got Harrison washed, as I am walking out of the bathroom I looked at myself in the mirror, I have a wet baby still looking at me like I am crazy, no pants on, my t-shirt and a blue tooth in my ear flickering a soft blue light, just another modern dad, giving his kid a bath.