I know what’s in mine. Sometimes Most of the time it’s dishes, sometimes it’s mop water, sometimes it’s fruits and veggies I’m washing and sometimes it’s boys.
When we moved into this house the first thing I changed out was the sink. When I say I, I really mean I. Scott was content with the four inch deep stainless steel sink. I was not impressed. I could hardly imagine myself doing dishes much less bathing little boys. I have always washed them in the sink as babies and they still beg from time to time to climb in. Particularly if I have just bathed Petey.
The spray nozzle is super handy for getting dirt out of hair and behind ears and under fingernails. Unfortunately, it poses a few dangers. The knives sit not to far away from the sink and obviously a slippery wet boy on a counter above a tile floor begs the question. Is she planning on making a trip to the ER?
I will probably continue to let them bath in the sink if they like. Tommy is six and still likes to do it. As long as he quits before, well, before he’s sixteen, I think it’ll be OK.
No comments:
Post a Comment