Jack of Many Trades

Parenting: Bathtime/Bathtime Redux

Originally posted: 2014-07-23

"Dad?" Jacob stuck his head out the bathroom door.

"Do I hear you taking your bath?" his father called back.

"I'm trying?"

In the living room, his father grumbled a bit. Jacob bit his lip as his father came down the hall toward him. "What does 'trying' mean?"

"I can't get in," Jacob admitted.

His father blinked at him. "You can't..." Then he pushed the door open. Jacob looked behind him to see if it was any better.

It wasn't. Bubbles still towered two feet above the waterline.


His father dissolved into laughter. Relieved, Jacob laughed too.


"How did you melt the duck?" his mother asked again.

Jacob just sort of shrugged, staring at the yellow puddle of plastic. He honestly didn't remember what happened - he'd been in the bath, and he was kind of dizzy, and there was pressure behind his eyes, and then it was dark. His dad was holding him tightly, and they were both soaking wet.

"It doesn't matter," his father said, refusing to let him go.

His mother shook her head. "It does. He's- Who can we call? He's too young to be registered."

"It was just a freak accident. Nothing more," his father insisted. "Not everything is super powers."

"But Dyl, rubber ducks don't just melt. Maybe we should get him checked out. I just don't want him to end up on some list."

His father sighed. "It looked like maybe it was a seizure? We'll take him to the hospital, to be safe. But I don't see any reason to mention the duck."

"Just a seizure," his mother nodded. "If it happens again..."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Jacob didn't know what that bridge was, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to end up there.