Life is odd.

There's something a tiny bit twisted about cackling over Calvin and Hobbes bathtime comic strips of an evening, thinking fondly about how they remind one of one's own childhood bathtimes, and half an hour later looking in on one's bathing child to see a tub full of poop being happily consumed by said child and having to drain the tub, sanitise the toys and the tub, and then run a whole new bath.