Repeat

There was one time when Luke was two-years-old that he flooded the upstairs bathroom. He had somehow splashed enough water out of the tub to create a shallow pond on the tile floor.

Today it was Jacob's turn. I went to clean up his other mess, involving playdoh and the grout downstairs, while he splashed around in the tub for a minute. Suddenly, I heard the distinct sound of the toilet lid being played with. I rushed back to the bathroom and pushed open the door.

He was giddy with joy while bailing water out of the tub with the hair-washing cup at the rate of a sailor whose dingy is sinking. There was no less than ankle deep water the entire length of the bathroom. It was seeping through the carpet on the other side of the door and down through the downstairs ceiling.

I froze. Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Clearly I'm a wiz in situations like this.

I grabbed the cup from him and tried to bail the water back into tub. He got mad, then he got even. Now out of the tub, he started jumping in the man-made mischief. Water splashed halfway up the walls.

I yelled for Luke to come bail water so that I could get some towels. He deserted his post on the grounds that he didn't want to get wet. Traitor. I ran downstairs and ran back up. It took about 9 towels and 15 minutes of bailing to get the water absorbed.

I'm trying to remember why I thought Luke was harder at the age of three instead of two. If the last month is any indication, Jacob may kill me if he follows trend and becomes even more difficult at three.