Now though the wee man is bigger and has worked out how to free himself from the formally high white walls of the bath. He's like Tim Robbins in The Shawshank Redemption, finally managing to extricate himself and find freedom. One of the last bastions of caging him has gone. Now he has discovered he can do this, this will be what happens every night at bath time. My window for crashing on the sofa for five minutes will be significantly shorter as he will probably stay in the bath for thirty seconds then decide enough is enough and that door will open and I will see that little face grinning at me.
After he is brought through for changing he tries he darnedest to stay naked and often just urinates on the floor before we manage to get a nappy on him. This infuriates both me and The Chancellor and it requires me to get the Vanish mousse out and scrub away at the carpet for five minutes. Can I get a quiet five minutes?
There is luckily one place that is still too tricky to get out of and that's his Alcatraz cot. If it isn't the high bars that will keep him in it's the moat I have dug circling it. He'll have to swim pretty quick if he wants to make it out of his room. But even the cot has a shelf life and the day will come where I have to put a bolt on the outside of the door. Top parenting I think.