I've always thought it would be funny to write a story about a little boy who hates bath time... Until he discovers his mum's secret stash of luxurious bath time treats! So, this story is end result of that thought. It's also available to listen to as a podcast!
Bertie's Bath Time!
"I will NOT get in the bath!" Bertie yelled at his mum.
"I like being dirty and washing is just dumb.
Anyway, baths are boring - there's nothing fun to do.
You just sit there getting wet, staring at the loo!"
Mum rolled her eyes and shook her head at Bertie.
"You HAVE to wash. You can't just stay all dirty!
Besides, I'm the boss," she added, closing the bathroom door.
"Because I'm thirty two and you've only just turned four."
So, Bertie had to take his clothes off and climb into the tub.
He gave his mum an angry glance as he slipped into the suds.
He didn't take his bath toys in, he didn't feel like playing.
Besides, he hated bath time, so he didn't plan on staying.
"There, I'm clean," Bertie said, five seconds after hitting the water.
Then he spied the posh body butter Mum's sister Cath had bought her.
"Body butter?" Bertie frowned. "Are you meant to eat it?"
He stuck his finger in and sniffed: "Eurgh, no thanks, you can keep it!"
His tired mother rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's wash your hair."
She grabbed shampoo and sighed at him. "Then you can get out of there."
But Bertie, to his great surprise, had started having fun.
He wasn't ready yet, for his bath time to be done.
He dropped a little body butter onto his bare tummy.
"I thought I'd test it," he told Mum. "Even though it smells all funny."
He rubbed the butter into his skin and it felt all smooth and soft.
"I like that," Bertie declared, as he held the tub aloft.
"What else have you got in here?" He asked, looking all around.
Something soon took Bertie's eye - something glistening and round.
"What are these things?" He asked Mum, taking one out of the pot.
"Bath pearls," Mum replied. "And Bertie... Could you not?!
If you squeeze them too hard, then they'll burst. I can't use them, then!
So, now you've had a look at them, please put them back again."
But Bertie wanted to see one pop, so he gave the pearl a squeeze.
Bright purple gel came spurting out and trickled down onto his knees.
"This is fun," Bertie declared, as poor Mum shook her head.
"I don't want my soap and things! I'll use all yours, instead!"
He took a bath bomb from the shelf and dropped it in the tub.
And whilst it fizzed and whizzed about, he tried some body scrub.
"This feels all bumpy on my skin," Bertie laughed, as he scrubbed himself.
"Why do you keep all the good stuff way up on that high shelf?!"
Mum frowned and tutted at her son. "Because that stuff is mine!
I like to have a relaxing bath and a nice bit of 'Me Time.'"
"Well, it's Bertie Time," Bertie said, sprinkling glitter into the bath.
"And I smell lovely and I'm sparkly and more relaxed by half!"
Mum didn't look quite so chilled, as Bertie found a face pack.
"Bertie, you don't need use that," she said. "Please put it back!"
But the packet had already been opened, in Bertie's eager haste.
And he was busy smearing the contents all over his young face.
"Do I look like a monster?" Bertie asked, letting out a roar.
"Yes," Mum said. "Now wash it off, and don't open anything more."
"Shall we light the scented candles?" Bertie asked, ignoring Mum's pleas.
"This one smells of oranges. And that one smells like trees!"
Mum shook her head. "No candles! It's time you got out, now."
Yet, Bertie had decided to extend his bath time. He just had to decide how.
"I need more bubbles," Bertie explained, tipping a bottle out.
Bertie's mum was horrified, but had no energy left to shout.
"You were right, Mum," Bertie said. "Bath times are so relaxing!
I just need more stuff from the shelf. Bath salts are what I'm lacking!"
And so, Bertie tipped in the bath salts and the water fizzed once more.
And the bubbles began to overflow and drip onto the floor.
But all the while, Bertie sighed, grabbing Mum's bath pillow.
"I think I'll stay in here for hours," he cooed, as bath steam began to billow.
"I'm just so chilled out," Bertie smiled, as he lay back in the bath.
Mum stared at the mess of the bathroom, as though she might go on the war-path.
And then, as Bertie gazed at her, looking awfully smug,
Mum reached into the water and she pulled out the plug.
"My bath!" Bertie yelled. "I was feeling so relaxed!"
But Mum's face was a picture of pent-up stress and angst.
"Oh, Mum," Bertie said, struggling to contain a laugh.
"You know what you need? A nice, hot bubble bath."