Emma loves her magic bath beans. I love them too. Recently they’re the only way I can get my noodle into a bath.
They’re odd looking things. Part medicinal capsule, part colourful suppository, I’ve mistakenly popped one into my mouth thinking it was a hardcore painkiller, only to spit it across the kitchen counter.
So bath time has Emma and I taking the capsules out of their packet (see above), throwing them into the running water and then leaning over the tub to see what shapes emerge.
Shen then jumps in, plays for a minute or two and jumps out, declaring that her ‘bagina’ is clean.I then have to throw more beans in to get her back into the bath to give her a wash. Our collection of spongey thingymajigs is well over 100.
Earlier this week Ben had turned my handbag upside down and everything in it landed on the floor, including my tampons. Emma spotted one, picked it up and asked me if it was a magic bean. I, at the time sipping on my tea, couldn’t come up with clever ‘that’s what the experts would say’ kind of an answer. My only response was spewing boiling hot tea out my nose. And I left it at that.
Emma didn’t. Later that evening she called me up to the bathroom, distress in her voice. “Mama, mama! Come look. They’re broken!”
Rushing into the bathroom I saw 12 tampons bobbing in the water. “Why aren’t they turning into anything mom? These are junk magic beans!”
My response? Another mom fail moment. “Yes Emma they’re junk magic beans!”