"No, I'm too pretty to die!" Tyrus screams. "Don't do this to me!"

"C'mon, Tyrus," you say to the six-year-old. "It's only a bath. When you're done, I'll let you play in it."

"Playing in the tub is for babies, Papa/Mommy," Tyrus grumbles. You chuckle, and ruffle his striking, flaxen hair. The boy smiles, and manages a slight laugh, as he pushes your hand away.

Soon, you hear the sound of playful snarling.

"Fear me, vile heathen!" Tyrus cries, before the sound of splashing is heard. "Ah-ha! Got you, at last!"

"Tyrus, are you done, yet?" you ask, through the closed door. "It's almost bedtime."

"Ten more minutes!" the boy says.

You chuckle under your breath. Playing in the tub is for babies, huh?

At least your little boy doesn't want to grow up.

Author's note: This was just a short, little thing that ran through my head.