Big Baby Bathing

If Mister Valance can go posting pictures of himself in the tub, then so can I. Although, I only tend to sing, fully clothed, in church!

(All that pop, pop, popping, I did by meself, ta very much!)

And seeing as I'm on a tub time team, theme even; here's one of my favourite poems:

Baby’s Epitaph – by Anon

A muvver was barfin’ ‘er baby one night,

The youngest of ten, and a tiny young mite,

The muvver was poor and the baby was thin,

Only a skeleton covered in skin,

The muvver turned round for the soap off the rack,

She was but a moment, but when she turned back,

The baby was gorn, and in anguish she cried,

“Oh where is my baby?”

- The angels replied:

“Your baby ‘as fell down the plug ‘ole,

Your baby ‘as gone down the plug,

The poor little mite was so skinny and thin

‘E oughter been barfed in a jug,

Your baby is perfectly ‘appy,

‘E won’t need a barf anymore,

Your baby ‘as fell down the plug-‘ole,

Not lost, but gone before.”

Summit for Mister Valance

On passing by Mister Valance's porch, I stumbled on him making his singing debut.

Oh mercy, and praise the lord, for soapy suds clouding me view. He'd even taken all his clothes off for the performance.

But when I looked closely...
 

... summit...
 

... was...

... definitely...

... missing!

There's more than enough "ladies" hanging around the place to help him scrub his back, but what's a boy to play with, when splashing in the tub?

I is a pondering...

Periscopes up or down, who knows!

Still pondering...

Nothing untoward above the rippling tide line.

Pondering more...

For all I know, he could even have his boots on, hidden beneath the murky depths, in case he needs to make a quick exit.

Pondering over.
 

Me finks the cowboy could do with one of these: