Why did bathtime become a bubbly battle

Bath night is three days a week for the twins. And every time I’m telling them not to drown each other, I think of a former colleague who would start rushing around at 3pm, so he could get home in time to bathe his children.

It might be me being grumpy or my children being ‘challenging’, but I struggle with the allure of being anywhere near the house while they’re thrashing around in a bath.

I’d use the ‘I’m stuck in work’ card, but I work from home on those days, so there’s no get-out clause.

Initially, I imagined bath night as a

The twins are double trouble in the bath

heart-warming evening of fun, laughter, and excitement. And when they were babies, it was magical, even if the gentle terror of very small children in water, lurked in the background. However, now we have an entirely different scenario.

For a start, by the time they’re in the bath, it’s gone 7pm and all I want to do is sit down, have something to eat and sneak in a little television. The timing is our fault, but what isn’t is they insist on sliding into the water from the edge of the bath. This involves five-yearolds balanced precariously above a tiled floor and looks like an episode of Casualty about to unfold, as they narrowly avoid smacking their heads on hard surfaces.

We’ll then move on to arguments