Really... I'm not dirty.

I totally don't understand the concept of a bath.  Why must you bathe me???  I clean myself!  Well.. the parts that count anyway.  Usually I love to go in the bathroom...  enjoy going through the garbage, sticking my head in the shower when moms in there, bothering dad while he shaves... I really do enjoy the bathroom.  Just not the "going in the tub" part.  Nope.  Don't like that part.  And I always know when it's time for a bath.  Mom has to drag me in there and close the door... I try to stay as far away from the tub as physiclly possible.

Now, I know if I stare at the door knob, dad will come save me...

Did you tell him not to come save me?  I heard you.  That's cheating, mom.

Please don't make me do this... please.  I don't think I'm going to win this battle.

Son of a cat.  I hate you right now, mom.  This is just inhumane.

Well, I'm squeeky clean.  And I smell like coconuts.  I'm not speaking to mom for the rest of the day.  There was no reason I needed a bath.  This is why my dad is the coolest person ever.  He'd never give me a bath or make me take my medicine when I'm sick or trim my nails or brush my teeth.  He just plays with me and gives me treats.  Dad is where it's at.  I'm going to get protected from him for the rest of the night.

Safe.

After my bath, Dad took me outside to play while I dried off.  Then mom came out and I didn't want to play anymore.  So, I sulked around the yard and tried to stay very far away from her... then dad threw the ball again and I forgot all about my bath.

What?  I swear I didn't just take a big bite out of the lawn... I don't know why you'd think that!

So, now I'm back to causing trouble and doing all my normal stuff... which will probably result in another bath at some point.  Maybe I'll eat the tub... then she can't give me a bath!  Food for though...