A bubble bath to break up the day gives me a rejuvenated sense that I can tackle anything. I’m relaxed, I’m calm, I’m surprisingly blotchy and pink from scalding myself. This is Sunday afternoon. Bring me your worst.

Something about the bath puts things into perspective. Life is good. I have all I need. I can break-up an argument between a four and seven year old, over which is the better chicken wing, the one boner or two boner without collapsing with laughter.

I can stand back allowing Greg to dirty the kitchen while defying the laws of gravity as he whips together his famous chicken wings. Famous I suppose because like a celebrity, a spotting of Daddy in the kitchen is in many respects as unique as running into Tomkat at the bus stop.

I can carefully choose my words when the kids ask if the wings came to us via a real chicken, a live animal, something with a mother, siblings, friends in addition to delicious body parts, a conversation that may have turned them to veganism sans bubbles.

The suds still crackling in my ears can drown out the tune of Ellie singing the ABC’s of Canada book and even help me to keep quiet (as per her request) as she struggles to sound out the words. On bath days, I make it as far as Y before I notice Hanna chewing on a toy phone, staring at the ceiling and Greg playing angry birds on his i-pod, when I blurt out “Y is for Yukon,” provoking, “I know that one Mommy! Y is for Ikom!” When she flips to V is for Vancouver she angrily recognizes the V and asks why I still haven’t signed her up for violin lessons which rolls right off the foam still coating my back.

I can handle a lengthier than necessary discussion about why the gingerbread house we built had gingerbread men guarding the premises when they were so clearly short, gingerbread boys.

I do wonder though in this falsely, jellowish, fuchsia-skinned state how long it will take to hear the baby waking from her nap through the cup of formula sitting next to my laptop that is not in fact the baby monitor, cradled on a charger far, far away thought the crazy lady.