The pandemic life seems to have left some people questioning why they bathe so much, and by some people I mean the littlest person inhabiting our pod. He’s always enjoyed bath time and never put up a fight. But, a few months ago I noticed that after dinner, Nate would claim he’d taken a shower in the morning. And in the morning, he’d claim to have taken a shower the night before. Super sus. I’ve implemented a system of adding confirmed shower symbols to our dry erase calendar, and smell checks. Preferably of wet hair. He takes extreme delight in hoping I’ll take him up on smelling his armpits. “Cut me a break,” as Grandma would say.
This afternoon we decided to do the plastic knife soap carving artistic project from this month’s school Challenge box. Nate’s rationale, “It sounds really satisfying.” It involved turning a cheap bar of ivory motel soap into an inch of fragrant snow dusting the kitchen floor. And an elephant.
Part way through I looked at Michelangelo and was like, “Wow, this is probably the closest you’ve gotten to a bar of soap in a couple of days, huh?”
The side-eye was so worth it.