Indecent Proposal

My wife is a teacher.  Recently, she asked if I would assist her in grading a “mountain” of worksheets.   How f’ing horrible does that sound?  Like any good Domestic God, of course, I am here to help!  But, this time, if this Domestic God were going to help his wife…it was going to cost her.

I played it coy and hmm’ed and haw’d about helping my better half.  Finally, she told me that she would, “do ANYTHING” I wanted if I were to help her with the dreaded grading.  “Anything?”, I asked.  “Aboslutely ANYTHING!”, she replied.  Taking into account her tone of desperation, I fired back. “I want you do that one thing for me that you rarely do anymore.  I know you hate this act–because I’ve heard you and your friends talking about your disdain for it….but I LOVE when you do it–you’re sooo good at it.  I want you to go up and supervise the kids’ baths”.

I wish I were over exaggerating the drama of this scenario, but I am not.  Bath time with my two sons sucks.  First off, our 5 year old, who we’ll call “Little Rusty” hates to get wet and demands he shower with his older brother, who we’ll call “Colton”. Of course, Colton absolutely despises sharing a shower with his little brother–and I don’t blame him.  First off, Colton likes to take extremely LONG, hot showers.  You know the one’s that use all the hot water.  He can’t do that with the other guy encroaching on his bathing territory.

Secondly, Rusty is one of those kids who is ALWAYS goofing around–always.  Once shower time starts, the silence is abruptly ended about a minute in.  This is when the first wet “smack” is heard and Rusty starts wailing.  Rusty likes to use shower time to jockey for position and pinch and poke his older brother to get the highly coverted space directly under the shower head.  Remember–this guy elbowed his way into his older brother’s shower–literally.  Oh, and he doesn’t even like to get wet!

Once I come in to referee my naked children’s shower wrestling match, (By the way, there was a time that “naked shower wrestling matches” were something I would pay top dollar to see–at a place near the airport with DDD blonde combattants.  This exhibition is not nearly as entertaining or titilating.), there comes a short “cease fire”.  Only to be interrupted with a scream now from the older of the two, Colton.  Without fail, as I lay in my bedroom, the following words will inevitably come booming from the bathroom next door.  I am paraprashing; “Rusty opened up his butt cheeks!” OR “Rusty is playing with his dingle!”  That’s right folks, I have one of THOSE kids–the one into good ol’ fashioned hillbilly family exhibitionism!

That’s usually the signal that shower time is over.  This leads to a furious battle over which boy gets out of the shower first.  I have no idea what the stakes of this competition are–but judging from the fierceness of the particpants, the stakes must be incredibly high!  This struggle will end with one or more particpants slipping and falling.  I don’t know about you, but I didn’t think you’d get bruises or cuts from showering until you reached at least your 80’s???

Once the wounds are tended to, drying occurs as both boys continually bitch about being cold.  Of course, why dry one’s self–when you could bitch about it instead?  Toothbrushing, ah- another landmark matchup.  When my kids brush their teeth it seems that the object is not dental hygeine and maintenance.  It seems to be who can get more toothpaste (used and un-used) and water (used and unused) everywhere BUT into the sink.  My kids are damn good at this one.  They’ll take on any comers.

Finally, bath time ends with the obligatory dressing.  Of course, the pajamas laid out for the two boys is never quite up to par. They are either not warm enough, too warm, or they are not the one’s with Sponge Bob on them which are in the wash because Rusty  pissed on them last night.

That, in a nutshell is bathing my spawn.

My wife must really wanted my help to grade those papers.  She accepted my indecent proposal.  As she took the little mongrels up the stairs and as the imminent smacks and screams echoed from the wonderful acoustics of our bathroom, I laid back on the couch and loosened by belt….  With a funky 70’s bass heavy porno groove playing in my head, I started to grade those shitty f’ing papers.

Mmmmm…the sweet ecstasy of Domestic Deity.  Oh yeah….


One Response to “Indecent Proposal”

  1. Daisy Says:

    HA HA HA! Oh my, this made me laugh. It also reminded me of why I am so glad my boys are much older than yours and WAY beyond this stage. Since my sons are now 15 and 20, those days are LONG behind me–thank goodness for that!! The memories of water slopped all over the floor, spilled bottles of shampoo, gobs of toothpaste in the sink, shoving matches in front of the mirror, and soggy, dripping towels are still pretty fresh in my mind though.

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