Just a few short years ago, bath time was dreaded around our house. Wrangling three toddlers into the bathroom, undressing them and getting them into the tub was like herding cats. Once there, we were lucky to get them clean, dried and into their jammies without any water damage detectable on the lower level. Like many parents, we have a few embarrassing photos of kids in the tub splashing and having fun (all strategically censored of course). Thankfully there are no pictures me begrudgingly wiping up those supposedly ‘washable’ tub crayons, or Maverick’s exasperated face crying out, “Don’t drink the bath water!” Then one glorious day when we felt the kids were old enough, the two of us sat on the couch and told our kids to go upstairs, take a shower and get ready for bed. We held our breath and were rewarded with successfully clean kids. Every day since that magnificent milestone, our kids have showered independently. The other night, Sport asked if he could take a bath…a seemingly rare special treat these days. I sent him up to get started and followed a few minutes later. As he floated around, I sat on the counter and chatted with him about some heavy topics including religion, college and his future career. It suddenly hit me that we were now sitting there discussing very grown up topics in the same space where he drank the bath water just a few years before. That dreaded bath time had now turned into time I truly treasured (provided the tub crayons stayed far, far away).