After supper most nights, I give Al (Sissy) a choice. She can either clean up the kitchen, or clean up Carlos. It's pretty much a non-choice; she hates doing dishes and loves her little bro.
Sis is typically great at giving Carlos a bath. She gets him in there, gets him bubbled up, gets him laughing. Often the floor is also pretty clean by the end of the experience as well - it gets mopped, by necessity, after each of Carlos' bath experiences.
Sometimes, though, Sis isn't go great at this, and just gets the water going and then kind of leaves him to fend for himself with an occasional check-in. This is OK - I mean he is approaching seven, but he's not as good at getting all the grime off, plus sometimes he makes interesting choices in the few unsupervised minutes between her popping in.
Last night was one of those interesting choices. On one of her look-sees, Sis yells for me to come quick. She's laughing, so I'm not too worried, but I arrive in our bathroom to see Carlos armed with all of our tooth brushes, scrubbing to mildew off the tub. It was funny, but slightly disturbing - how many other times has he done this? I think I'd prefer not to know.