My lifeguard stand is the rocker in my bedroom, a safe distance from the flurry of splashes.
I know how long I last in a warm bath. And I know the twins passed that marker minutes ago.
Fingers are undoubtedly wrinkled prunes. My bathroom floor is sopping wet.
I didn't move the bath mat far enough away.
And yet they play on, giggling and splashing. Octonauts, sea creatures, goggles, and dive toys. Swim suit bottoms.
Such an enormous treat, swimming in Momma's big tub.