Don’t drink the bath water

Have you ever looked at your kids feet before they get in the bathtub? Like, really looked at them? In the heat of the summer when they’re running around in sandals, there is nothing filthier than children’s feet. Well, nothing other than the murky bath water that washed them off.

 Despite the logical revulsion a person should have to the dirt-sand-butt water that kids soak in while bathing, their favorite tub time entertainment has always been drinking the bath water. The grossest thing about toddlers is that they don’t know what’s gross. And for the record, drinking the dirty water you’ve washed your filth off in, is super gross.

The struggle is real. Four years and counting, I’ve heard myself on repeat; Don’t drink the bath water! Don’t drink the bath water! Don’t drink the bath water! It’s not just one kid, either. There must be some sort of peer pressure situation happening because it’s like a toddler drinking club up in that tub.

My main concern is obviously the unsanitary nature of it all, but there is also the secondary concern of filling up before dinner. They’d drink gallons of it, if I let them. That delicious lasagna you made? Your toddler will not hesitate to tell you how gross that is, but give them a tea cup in the bath tub and they drink their weight in cloudy bath water. So it’s probably partly my fault that I gave them a tea set to play with in the tub. 

I don’t want to say that I think drinking bath water is acceptable under certain circumstances, because it’s most definitely not. But maybe if it was a solo bath, it would be less gag-worthy. At least then you’d just be recycling your own filth. When you’re tub-thumping with two of your siblings, there is no justifying the consumption of that kind of dirt-sand-butt water cocktail.  There’s no getting through to them. No matter how many times I repeat myself, no matter how emphatic I am about not supplementing their diet with soiled h2o, there’s a very real and very strong pull that brings that plastic tea cup full of brown water to their grubby little lips. It’s a pull so strong that I’m not sure I can crush it, which means on a scale from 1 to SuperMom, I’m a couple steps below the dirt-sand-butt water. 

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