Tidal Wave

If you have never navigated to my “Why Candid Calliope” page, you might not know that my family has a theme song. Oh, yes. And if there is any way for you to play that theme song while you read this post, I invite you to do so now.

Last weekend we took a quick trip into New Hampshire to celebrate the weather and take the first hikes of the season. My heart was breaking into tiny pieces as we hiked because I am pretty sure this will be our last summer of hiking with Chloe. She is getting too big for Sean to carry her. I took a lot of pictures as we went, determined to document it all in any way I could. But the picture-taking did not start on the hike. It started in the room we stayed in the night previously, one hour before check out. One hour. Before check out.

Desiring a place in which we could relax a bit, I splurged when I booked the room. It was a two bedroom condo, with an electric fireplace that lent a source of amusement to Sean (he kept poking to “logs” with his fingers when he first turned it on– by way of light switch), and a source of coziness for me. I have a pretty flexible and vivid imagination. There was also a massive jacuzzi tub in one of the bathrooms. The tub was surrounded by mirrors. Posh, no? No. I found it disconcerting. More than one person in a room counts as a crowd to me, myself included. I prefer to talk to myself in my head, not the mirror. These crazy mirrors bounced off of each other, too, seventeen Allisons in one little space. Ack! All I wanted to do was go pee!

It was agreed upon that the children would bathe in the morning before we set out. Sure, hiking can get dirty, but Chloe in particular doesn’t get too grody hanging off a Daddy’s back. The bath water was started. We’ll just put a bit of water in the giant tub for Chloe, we thought. She doesn’t need too much. We won’t bother with the jets; they will probably scare her. We won’t bother with the jets; they will probably scare her.

Upon further inspection, I imagine this could be a dire warning..
Upon further inspection, I imagine this could be a dire warning…

This sign was posted next to the tub. How do you interpret this sign? I took it to mean that the jets simply wouldn’t work without enough water in the tub. We won’t bother with the jets, they will probably scare her. 

I stood Chloe at the edge of the tub, and began taking off her jammies, getting ready for a bath. I was myself still in my jammies. Chloe, who was feeling a bit nervous about this new giant tub, started grabbing at anything on the edge of the tub she could get a grip on.

We won’t bother with the jets; they will probably scare her.

In her grabbing, she smacked the button for the jets.

I was standing behind her, and directly in front of us were the four most powerful, hateful, and vengeful jets I have ever come in contact with.

Water shot out at a rate I can only describe as having seen once before. In Yellowstone. It came straight at our faces and over our heads, filling the bathroom quickly with water.

I started yelling, “Sean! Sean, get in here! Sean!” I smacked the button once, and then again, unable to gain the traction in all the wet watery-ness to turn off the blessed jets. Things were starting to slosh.

It was at this point I noticed that the toilet paper behind me was getting wet. “What a mess!” I think, not about the drenched daughter, the inches of water I am standing in, my dripping pajamas, or the soaking towels that may have come in handy when cleaning this mess. “Heavens, no! Not the toilet paper!”

Sean grabbed a surf board and finally made it into the bathroom to turn off the jets. He hit his mark and turned the jets off, but it seemed he  second guessed himself, because he hit the button again, and turned the jets back on.

Sean!” I yell, for different reasons this time, as if in his newly moistened state he can’t comprehend the depth of the issue. He starts smacking the button as I had been earlier, and after what felt like ten minutes, the angry jets were silenced.

We won’t bother with the jets; they will probably scare her.

Spongedad Squishypants
Spongedad Squishypants

Sean started laughing way too soon.

I was not ready to laugh yet.

Did I mention this happened one hour before checkout? It took every towel in the room and a sponge mop to even begin to dry it up. (Too bad about the toilet paper.)

And now Chloe has a new nickname. Tidal Wave.

See the look of distrust on Chloe's face? It is not unwarranted.
See the look of distrust on Chloe’s face? It is not unwarranted.

 

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