This is one of those posts that Finn will be talking about at therapy in a few years.
So we got Finn this new tub. In our new house, we have but one bathroom and in that bathroom, we have a super roomy shower, but no bathtub. Up until now, he's been bathing in the kitchen sink, which has been less-than-convenient, particularly when it's filled with dirty dishes.
So last week, I decided that was it, I'm buying and installing a proper tub in the bathroom.
Except that we don't really want one in that bathroom (we will when we put in the new one upstairs, but there's not really a point in putting one in what will eventually just be a glorified laundry room, now is there?).
And we have better things to spend $500 on (wood stove, anyone??).
Luckily, I ran it past my Facebook friends, and they convinced me that a tub is a silly idea, so I went searching for an alternative. After some searching, I was able to find a tub made in Sweden that doesn't use all those nasty plastics and that folds up to almost nothing. Win.
So last night, we had our maiden voyage with the tub. Chad and I were happily sipping our glasses of wine when Finn made "the face".
I guess it's a testament to how relaxed he felt in his new tub that he decided it was the opportune moment to poop in it, but for goodness sakes, is nothing sacred anymore? He hasn't pooped in his bath since he was about 5 months old.
So here we are - 2 posts about poop in the same week. Sorry Finn - hope you have good insurance when you grow up.
Love,
Mom
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