Bathtime With Meatballmom: Tubtales [Episode 1]

Bathtime has always been a favorite for both of my kids. The toys, the splashing of the water: they can’t get enough. They could play in the bath for hours (don’t worry! they never do–just giving a frame of reference). Sometimes there are tantrums getting out of the tub because they want to splash and play longer.

There were those early sleepless “newborn” days with my second child when I was so tired it hurt. I barely had the energy to do anything. I remember one afternoon grabbing a folding chair for me and the portable bassinet for the baby and letting my toddler just play in the tub. At 4pm in the afternoon. I sat on the folding chair next to the tub sipping the iced coffee from a 2-cup glass Pyrex measuring cup trying to gain some energy for the evening ahead.

Fast forward to recent times where they both often bathe at the same time. I bring my daughter’s clothes and diaper into the bathroom and dress her on the big blue fluffy rug on the floor when she’s done. I let my son continue playing in the tub for a few minutes while I’m getting her dressed. This way I can keep my eye on him.

So what appeared to be a typical bathtime for my two kids before bed turned into what felt like a comedy routine.  I took the baby out and set her on the fluffy rug.  I got her dressed, but as I picked her up, one of the pieces of fabric on the rug flipped up and something black caught my eye….dun dun DUN! A SPIDER!! It was on the underside of the piece of fabric and froze like spiders or other bugs do when they see they have been ‘spotted.’

I am not a fan of spiders AT ALL. I get so creeped out by them, even the small ones.  My stepdad is always teasing me by posting some crazy spider video or picture on my Facebook wall in hopes to ‘help’ me get over my fear.  Isn’t that so kind of him?

My daughter started crawling in the direction of the spider so I quickly placed her in her crib to secure her while I ‘fended off’ our intruder.  My son watched me over the side of the tub like a spectator at a tennis match. I looked like a lunatic (imagine Chef Louie from Disney’s “The Little Mermaid”chasing little Sebastian the Crab around the kitchen.)  I took my husband’s Birkenstock and began pounding the piece of rug where the spider was hiding underneath.  I didn’t want to risk the spider running away only to pop out and surprise me like a creepy jack in the box–or worse yet, bite one of the kids.

I used the tip of the shoe to check and make sure the spider was still there— dead.  Whew!!  He was still there. Now I wondered if he had been there a while and maybe was already dead?  Since taking a couple thwacks at the spider I was sure he was either dead when I first spotted him or I had just finished him off.

Then the thought crossed my mind—could this be a dark piece of thread balled up to look like a spider? Lord knows I’ve jumped a few times as that has happened to me before.

I look closer. It’s definitely a spider. I see markings on it’s back.  A picture.  I need to take a picture in case it needs to be identified, I say to myself. I leave the Birkenstock over the area where the spider is.

I decide to remove my son from the tub now and place him in his room as I run to fetch the spider spray. I figure the spider might still be alive and creep off later, so this will give me peace of mind. There I am. Both kids are in their rooms. I finish going to war with the spider in the bathroom–the battleground–where I destroy the enemy. I spray not once, but twice–good long sprays. Before I run out of the room closing the door behind me to keep fumes away from the kids, I decide to take a deep breath and check the spider again.

This time as I poke at him, and then I see something shiny.  Plastic.  A plastic edge around the spider. . . .

I’m confused–perplexed.

What?  What is this????

And then I realize . . . it’s a sticker.

Curious to know what this so called spider looked like? Keep scrolling.

Can you blame me?