The kids woke up Christmas morning to a house filled with gifts from Santa. Well, you know, “Santa.” Maybe Santa is getting senile in his old age, or maybe he was on the sauce, or he needs new glasses, WHO REALLY KNOWS at this point, but Santa failed to notice that the bathtub play set he’d purchased included a bathtub marker.
I really don’t know how it happened, I wouldn’t have bought the silly thing if I’d noticed the marker. We’ve made it six years with nary a bathtub crayon or marker decorating our tub, which is really an accomplishment of which I’m quite proud.
So when the kids opened this gift and sat looking starry eyed at the possibility of adorning the bathtub with their artistic genius, this is when I should have put my foot down as a parent. I SHOULD have just said, “no way, Jose.” But I buckled under pressure from two very curious and excited kids.
“I can’t wait to draw a race track for my cars, Mommy!!” Carson beamed.
“I want to make butterflies! Mommy, can you draw the butterflies?” Ella squealed.
You guys! They were jumping up and down with joy. JOY, people! How do I say no to JOY?! Tell me that.
So joy won, but was quickly replaced by horror. My horror, that is, the children were still full of joy, even when sitting in murky black stained bath water.
Oh, right, I didn’t mention that the marker was black. Like a Sharpie. Like a marker that could easily stain.
Bath time in our house is usually a pretty zippy affair. One kid gets in, gets washed, plays for two minutes, rinses, done. Water drained, lather, rinse, repeat with kid number two. Bath time when markers are added to mix was anything but a zippy affair. It involved two kids separately sitting in black water for too long, followed by a second bath for each child so that they could actually get clean. Which, yeah, is the actual purpose of taking a bath.
That doesn’t even include the time it took for me to clean the bathtub afterwards. It looked like a scene from a horror movie, or a movie about guys living in a fraternity house, the bathtub stained with black and gray streaks. Two cleaners plus a hefty helping of elbow grease later, the tub was finally clean.
The marker went into the trash along with the washcloth used to clean the tub.
Later that night I googled “Bathtub markers mess” looking for some commiseration, some solace, come WARNING that these markers are, in fact, evil. I found a few people say they were a “little” messy, but “so much fun!” A little messy? So much fun? What is wrong with everyone that I’m the first person to think these markers are the work of the devil?!
So I did what any responsible and sane parent would do. I wrote about it on a blog and search engine optimized the heck out of it to help others who’ve experienced the same horror. We’re all in this together!
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