I can't tell you how delighted I am that Jack has discovered his ability to climb into the bathtub. De-freaking-lighted.
This morning I got in the shower. Of course he followed me into the bathroom. Generally I can shower quickly enough and watch him through the sliding shower doors well enough that he doesn't have time to dump the entire contents of the cabinet below the sink into the toilet, poison himself, or otherwise cause disaster.
Today while I was rinsing off my face, he got really quiet. I thought, "Uh oh," and opened my still-soapy eyes and the sliding door to look for him.
He wasn't in the bathroom.
"Oh great," I thought. He'll probably be dangling out the upstairs window by the time I get out of here.
Then I felt a little SMACK on my behind.
Startled, I turned around, and found my son, fully clothed, standing in the back of the bathtub.
He was thrilled. I did my best not to drench him while I rinsed out my hair and turned off the water. I got dry and got out. He refused so I let him splash around in what was left of the water while I put my face on and brushed my teeth and hair. "Water! WATER!" he yelled. Add that to the list. Thankfully he didn't turn the (hot) water on himself.
I finally got him out and left the bathroom, closing the door carefully behind me and thinking about how I might install a hook and eye that would prevent him from getting in there, but not interfere with the girls' ability to get into the bathroom.
I quickly got dressed and chose clothes for him. "JACK! Come get dressed," I called into the toy room. "NO!" Well, ok then. Natural consequences. His soggy little butt can just stay there and shiver while I finish posting this.