Dr. Shrinky Strikes Again
(Did Anyone See Where I Packed the Lifeboat?)
The bedroom was a sea of half-filled boxes and plastic bins. The baby wailed hungrily as I rushed to finish my task. The three eldest children happily occupied themselves somewhere downstairs.
I stole a quick a moment to sit and nurse the baby. My five-year-old appeared at the top of the stairs. "Mommy?" he said, "I need a drink of water."
"Well, you're a big boy," I replied, "Mommy's busy. You go get one yourself."
"Okay." He hobbled up the last two stairs and carefully walked past my bedroom door.
Something wasn't right. "Wait a second, Buddy," I said, "What happened to your feet?"
"Well ... they're just all wet, Mommy."
A tiny alarm bell sounded. "And how did they get all wet?" I asked.
"I just gave my feet a bubbly wubbly bath, that's all."
For the first time, I realized the tap was running downstairs. "And where did you give your feet a bath?" I nervously asked.
"In the kitchen sink, Mommy."
I hastily burped the baby and buttoned my shirt. "Where are your brother and sister?"
"Playing with the bubbly wubblies!" my son exclaimed.
I ran downstairs. The super villains stood on chairs in front of the kitchen sink. Water overflowed onto the counter and spilled down to the floor. My new bottle of dish soap stood nearly empty.
Dr. Shrinky looked up and grinned. "Mommy! Mommy!" he exclaimed, "Bubbles!"