Last night, we went to a birthday party for my sister-in-law. After a fun filled, but unusually late, evening of karaoke, food and family, we began our trek home. As we were driving, I began telling the girls that they needed to get in their pajamas and hop in bed as soon as we got home because it was so late.
I had already decided it would be okay to skip baths for one night. But then I remembered that they didn't have baths the night before, either, since I have choir rehearsal and they sometimes have to come with me. Wednesday was one of those tag-along nights, plus I had to help with new auditionees afterwards, so we didn't get home until 9:30 and they went straight to bed (whether or not they actually went straight to sleep is another matter entirely).
I quickly realized that baths would just have to wait yet another night, and they could bathe in the morning. This is fine for Chloe, who has afternoon Kindergarten, and of course it's no biggie for Sophie. It's a stretch for Bria. So, I started to prepare her for the inevitablity of a morning time cleansing.
Of course, she complained about it. Bria doesn't much like baths anyway, and would go without them for months at a time if she didn't have a mother to bug her about it so much. I reminded her that it had now been two whole days since she'd been in the tub, and I couldn't with good conscience let her go to school so dirty.
Her response to my superior logic?
"All right, Mom! It's not like I'm going down to that guy!"
"What guy?" I asked.
"You know, Satan. It's not like I'm going down to Satan if I don't take a bath!"
Okay, so maybe not.
But it's pretty darn close.