So on this fine Sunday morning the four year old is taking a bath. He's predictably splashing and having a good time, though I am somewhat surprised at the minimalism of the actual mess. As I sit to watch and chat, I put a toy boat into the tub with him; it's just a single piece of molded pink plastic, but he likes them.
He grabs it and starts using it to stir the water, them leaves the poor thing listing and adrift. I pour the water out and set it back aright. "If you put water in it it doesn't float upright. See? Now it's a boat."
He grins and starts splashing water directly into the boat. My son the hurricane. I just smile and shake my head, and let him play as he likes, but after a minute he tells me the people are swimming in their clothes.
"In their clothes? That's not good."
"Can they not swim in their clothes?"
"Well, they can, but it's hard. It's not good."
"They're swimming in their clothes."
"Well, okay then."
He splashes a few more times.
"Oh, no! The monster is coming to get them!"
He points at the sadly listing and waterlogged pink toy.
"Uh oh," I say, and look around. A rubber ducky is lying forgotten by the base of the toilet. I grab it and lob it in to land between him and the boat.
"There he is! It's a monster!"
His little face breaks into a gleeful grin as he grabs the ducky and proceeds to maul the boat.
"Papa," he says, "where's the baby monster?"
"Just a minute," I say, and look around some more. The rubber ducky was part of a set with three smaller ones, but none of those are available. I find a pelican that one can fill and squeeze to squirt from a hole in his beak, and toss that in.
"There it is!"
He picks it up and looks it over, then turns his little eyes up at me with a sigh and a mildly disdainful scowl.
"Papa," he says, "that's not a baby monster. That's a toy."
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