Do, do, dooooo! Here comes Mr Crocodile!
Mr Crocodile bounds down the side of the bath going, “Boom! Boom! Boom!” before splashing frantically into the water, skipping along the surface like a biblical deity, dodging swiping hands with glee. It’s enthralling how one little plastic crocodile can provide so much entertainment.
Watching this little boy at play astonishes me every day, laughing in gleeful hysterics as Mr Crocodile makes it through all defenses to tickle his convulsing belly. It’s so very beautiful to watch and so very joyous to hear. One great, big ball of sensory overload.
This is bath time for a two year old. He gets covertly clean whilst having fun, both of us saturated in cheeky splashes. Polka-dot turtles squirt, blue ducks spin round and round whilst buckets of water sink ships to the ocean floor.
Then as the plug is pulled and bath time ends, it’s time to hop into our rocket ship, count down from three, then explode off into space, leaving Mr Crocodile far below spinning in the final throws of gurgling water.
As we fly through space, which oddly resembles a bathroom, turning off light switches looking like rocket ship controls, his imagination becomes mine and my imagination becomes his. We are out if this world for the moment.
The possibilities shared are endless, Who knows? Mr Crocodile may just attack like a raptor from the side next time round. We hurtle down the hallway at warp speed to change into our spacesuit, knowing that soon it will be time for Lennon, or maybe some Bah-Bah.
Goodnight to you all.