Fold My Laundry Please

Our usual bathtime time routine goes something like this.  Everybody plunks into the tub.  They play and splash for a while, then I soap up Aurora and Gideon, rinse them off, and pull them out of the tub.  Ethan then drains the tub and turns on the shower.  He’s a big boy now (5 1/2) and so needs to take showers, for which we have had "shower lessons".  These lessons have mostly consisted of me sitting next to the shower while Ethan flips around in the spray.  I get to say things like, "Make sure you rub the soap on your tummy.  Big circles.  And your arms…the underside of them, too.  And don’t forget your armpits."  Extreme micromanagement.  It’s the newest thing!  It’s X-TREME!  The last few times, however, I have not really needed to give instructions. 

Take last night for example.  I took the young’uns out of the tub and asked Ethan to get the shower going while I got a diaper on Aurora.  I had already spent the afternoon chasing after her totally nude self while she ran around the apartment peeing on the floor and I didn’t want to repeat the incident.  It was while I was getting her diaper and jammies on that I heard joyful song erupting from the shower.  The jubilant tune consisted of a single line of lyrics repeated about, oh, 2,000 times, each time to a different set of notes.

"The BOSS is gone!  The boss is GOOOOOONE!  THE boss IS gone!  The boss is gone-on-on-on!  THE BOSS IS GAAAWWWWNN!  The bah-ey-oss is a-gah-ey-on!"

The central theme of the song being that the "boss", namely, me, was "gone", i.e. out taking care of his sister.  I walked back in the bathroom to check on his progress.  The song was immediately reduced to simple, though exuberant, humming.  Presumably because the boss was back.  In the tub, a creature made completely out of soap suds was doing some sort of Irish jig.  Or perhaps it was a rain dance.  Either way, it made me think back whistfully to the time when showering wasn’t about getting in and out as fast as possible before someone hurt something or broke someone.  A time when I could relax, sing a song (maybe not the same song, but most likely something every bit as fun), and play with the soap suds.  Maybe even create funky hair-dos while shampooing.  Ah yes, the hour long showers that you swore were as fast as you could go, even though your mother insisted otherwise.

But long gone are those days.  Now I’m the boss and I get to live life vicariously through my children, watching them enjoy life and experience new things.  This fall, Ethan starts kindergarten; a point driven home by the call from our local elementary school this morning verifying that yes, indeed, Ethan was expected to show up for school on the afternoon of September 4th.  Next year, Gideon will be going, too.  And I, will feel old.  As Andrew said last night, we’re ending the first phase of our kid-riddled life.  A new phase will begin soon, one filled with PTA meetings, awards ceremonies (hopefully), and sporting events.  And as sad as I am to leave Phase I, I’m really excited about Phase II.  And someday, maybe I’ll even be able to dance in the shower for an hour, worry-free, once again!