the sink

Playing in the water is one of Jack's favorite things to do. He would do this for hours if we let him. We got him a special tower to stand in so that he can do it safely. We learned our lesson the hard way on that one. We had been letting him stand on a kitchen chair. I was standing right next to him (on his left side) and his foot slipped off the chair (on his right side). He fell to the floor and got a pretty nasty head bonk. The new set-up is so much better.

The main problem now is two-fold. First off, this is not the most environmentally-friendly of activities, not to mention the fact that it has the potential to inflate our water bill beyond our means. Unfortunately, for the Boy, this means that it's a special treat rather than a daily occurrence. He's usually okay with this until we come to problem number two...

Problem number two occurs when water time is over. To say that the Boy has a rough time with this would be like saying that I had a rough time with his labor. Under. Statement.

There are tears. There is screaming. There is arching of the back and limp noodling of the body. Kicking and flailing. Falling to the floor in despair. It's truly quite a scene. The only thing I can do is wait it out, and help him pick up the pieces when he finally calms down a bit. 

But for the fifteen minutes we play together in the sink, and we share giggles and grins, I'll help him through his meltdown. I'll dry his tears and wipe his nose, and try to explain that we'll play in the sink again, soon. And hopefully, twenty years from now, we'll both just remember the giggles and grins and the time we spent together playing in the sink.

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