Tummy Tub

It was the most expensive bucket I’ll ever buy. And it doesn’t even have handles. But Tummy Tub—a euro bathing tool that is an alternative to the stick-it-in-a-sink tubby—was worth every penny. And now that Max has outgrown the bath bucket, I’m really appreciating how easy it was to pop him in, dunk-tank style, and give him a quick scrub-a-dub. He would sit up in the T.T. like a little blonde Buddha, and once he got used to water, he began to enjoy tubby time. 

            Now, we have a typical (still plastic) oval tub that pops into the adult bathtub. I used it for the second time this morning, and Max and I were both bummed about the experience. He lays there on this stretcher that fits into the tub. I think he misses being submerged from the midriff down in the T.T. Oh, well. He laid their patiently while I craned over the tub and sudsed up his hair. When we were done, I awkwardly lifted his wet body out of the tub, wrapping him in towels that he tried to eat. (These days, he tries to eat everything.) Oh, my knees! (That ceramic floor is not very forgiving.) My back! The bathroom is a mess! I miss the T.T.

            But wait, here’s an idea. We have a vat-sized bucket in the garage—one made from super-sturdy plastic with thick rope handles. We used it as a beer cooler, but why not a tub? Could Max sit cross-legged in the beer cooler with his tub toys, splash around and get clean? Well, sure! The only problem: Not sure if that bucket will fit into our closet-sized bathroom.

            Stay tuned…