bath

Earlier this week I had the girls climb into the outrageous copper freestanding tub that sits in the middle of my bathroom for a last celebratory splash. Leta’s been taking showers four a couple of years and when I told her that they were going to take a bath together a horrifying noise erupted from her face as her eyeballs rolled and then fell out of her head. A bath? UGH. She is NOT a baby. She can MULTIPLY NUMBERS. And I was like, dude, zip it. Get back to me when you apply and then qualify for a loan. Get in the tub.

Marlo’s eczema flares up if she’s bathed in bubbles, so no spectacular suds in this one. But the tub itself made up for it. They splashed around until both of them were as wrinkled as an elephant. Outrageous tub, it was nice to know you. I’m so glad I never have to scrub you clean ever again.