*WARNING - Parents, grandparents, and other family members may find this blog post troublesome. Read at your own risk.*
"But your kids are in second grade." Yes, you are correct. And that would be a fair correction if that was who I was referencing. But no, this post would be about the man I am CHOOSING to spend the rest of my life with. Call me crazy...
Early this afternoon Josh and I exchanged some texts deciding that we'd take a bubble bath together tonight. It's been cold and rainy here so it sounded like the ideal way to get some alone time together since most of our cuddle time at night is interrupted by the most precious two year old in town.
Jump to tonight. I tell Josh I'm going to get the bath ready. Little Foot was asleep so all he had to do was get the big kids in front of a movie, and we were set. After about ten minutes he joined me in the tub. We got snuggled in the tub, and I was nice and relaxed enjoying the sound of the rain. Perfection.
Or so I thought. After about five minutes, Josh busts out laughing. It's a laugh I know well. One he only uses when there is a certain subject on his mind. One that was entirely inappropriate for this situation. But curiosity killed that cat, and well, "meow"... I had to ask. "What are you laughing about?" He just laughs harder. I ask again, more sternly this time, "What are you laughing about?" He just keep laughing. In my mind, I confirm that my guess is correct, but again I pry. "What is so funny?" At this point, grown man transforms into a third grade boy and replies, "I was just thinking about how if I farted then the bubbles would hit you in the back."
That should have been my clue to exit the tub. But no. Instead, I roll my eyes in the dark so only I know how irritated I am. He continues to laugh. I immediately decide this bath will take an entirely different route that the texts from earlier in the day indicated it might. Finally his laughter subsides and we sit, once again in silence. Just us and the rain.
After about five more minutes, Third Grade Boy gets fidgety. He begins to tap his fingers against the tub. I begin to think how I was more excited to get felt up in the back seat of my boyfriend's parent's suburban in 7th grade than I am at this very moment. I ask him if he's ready to get out since he seems bored. He informs me he's relaxed and that if he was tapping his fingers because he was bored it would sound like this. (insert really loud and annoying tapping noise) Again, I roll my eyes. The silence resumes.
Like most women, I can only sit in silence for so long without the inevitable occurring. So against my better judgement, I say it. "What are you thinking about?" After all he is sitting in the bathtub with me having some much needed alone time. Surely he's thinking how wonderful this moment is. "I was thinking about times I could run without having to get up too early or stay up too late." My second clue that exiting the tub is probably a good idea. Yet, I stay.
I think to myself how it doesn't matter whether or not he figures out the times. He isn't going to run. But, I try to stay positive and we continue sitting in this bathtub together. The conversation never getting more mature. Never getting more meaningful. Third Grade Boy never reappearing as the grown man that I could have sworn got in the tub.
We carry on with more meaningless conversation. We shift around. We discuss four feet deep bath tubs. And other inappropriate comments about things going four feet deep. We shift around some more. He tells me he can feel my hairy legs on his legs. I inform him that my legs aren't even near his legs. I make a mental note that he's slightly delusional, but that I'll go ahead and shave tomorrow morning anyway.
Finally, the discussion of water birth comes up. (That one was my fault.) We agree how absolutely disgusting that would be. We laugh. We're having a good time. After all, if you can't beat 'em, join em. Or so I thought. Water birth conversation comes to an end. There is a silence. But only for a moment because Third Grade Boy has another thought on the subject... "Well, it is kind of cool because they can swim around and stuff after they are born."
I get up and step out of the tub. I realize this bath adventure will never turn itself around. (Not to mention how misinformed Third Grade Boy is about water birth.) While I dry off I realize that maybe it wasn't the time I envisioned this afternoon when we were sending texts back and forth like high school kids. But it was our time. It was a true representation of us.
Maybe every night doesn't have a Hollywood ending. But it ends with the one I love filling my life with memories that I'll never forget. For that I am thankful... oh, and for the fact that he didn't hit me in the back with fart bubbles... I'm thankful for that too.
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