Baby Bath Time Blues

by: Andy Doolittle

I'm all alone this night with she

As her head is propped upon her knee

And a ducky’s shoved up in my face

...As she stares up in to outer space

....And drool drips down her tired face

.....As she tries to find her happy place 

And I splash her real hard just in case...

She slips into a restful nap 

Upon the turquoise bathroom mat,

And forgets about my bubbly needs

...And how the washcloth makes me sneeze

....And lonesomeness that makes me wheeze 

.....And tepid waters cause me freeze

I hear Jake’s joyful laughs with dad

That make me mournfully so sad 

Enough of this! I'm done! I'm through!

Grunting hard I drop a poo 

Then toss it over, "bombs away!"

(Yikes, had lots of corn today)

It lands with force upon her thigh

Her stupor clears.  Her screams so high!

Andy Stop!  Oh my WORD!

Chill out mom, it’s just a terd...

As she squeamishly flicks off the pieces

Of my nicely, well aimed feces,  

I grab my Tigger bath time pails

Filling each up to their tails,

Then dump them over on the floor 

She skids!   She slides...into the door!

Tires to dodge the poo but can’t 

And shouts a loud profane-filled rant

Then pirouettes, attempts to stand

Flailing, reaches with her hand...

The countertop, but grabs instead

The towel rack and smacks her head

She sinks down on the floor to rest

But lands upon the tube of Crest

A speeding light green minty arc

Sails up straight and hits its mark:

Her unwashed, curly mass of hair

She slumps and sighs out all her air.  

Now’s my chance to join my brother!

Just must get passed the injured mother....

I slide with grace onto the floor

Hopscotch by poo near the door

Twirl passed bobbing toothpaste bits

Then give her one well-planted kiss.

You’re real sweet, Mom, but for your sake

I never bathe without The Jake.   

Andy is 15 months old and the youngest of two brothers.  He enjoys the intricate passed times of shredding paper into indiscernible bits, particularly tax returns and warranties, and using the living room walls as a self-expressive mural.  He enjoys the freedom of the naked-state and has expressed interest in founding the first infant nudist colony.  One day, he hopes to swing on the ceiling fan in a brother-built sling and ride his dog like a pony.  His life motto would be, "If you can grab it, you can throw it."