A-splishin’ and A-splashin’
Splish Splash is a classic hit song about a guy taking a relaxing bath before realizing there was a wild party happening outside of his bathroom. This reminds me of the ducklings in the Dawn soap commercials who experience a pampering bath, only to then find themselves back in the wild…
I always thought writing commercials would be fun. Not the influencer ads on social media where every product is described as “obsessed with” but the quirky ones that make you turn to someone else while laughing to say, “so dumb.”
For example, Michael Cera and the Blue Jays commercials. I always knew he would go places after SuperBad.
Cleaning commercials are quite memorable. Perhaps because of how frequently they appear on the screen or because of an unsettlingly attractive male cartoon character.
‘There’s no clean like Mr. Clean’ broke gender norms by making a man represent domestic chores. While ‘stop cleaning. Start Swiffering’ demonstrates a Swiffer gliding across a hardwood floor carrying several generations worth of dust.
Lastly, there’s of course, Dawn soap, “The grease-fighting power of Dawn.”
To eliminate any confusion, they mean grease-fighting power on oil covered ducklings, not pots and pans.
Dawn’s initiative of protection for aquatic wildlife is wonderful but in the commercials, what exactly are they using as a stand in for oil? Molasses?
That’s great that it’s gentle enough for animal’s delicate skin but will it remove 5 day bacon grease?
As someone who often leaves dishes in the sink, I need tough soap and an apron…
In Twinkle Twinkle Little Bra, I accidentally wore a nursing bra. Today, I accidentally wore swamp water.
The day started like any other day working in recreation therapy where one minute is clinical work and the next minute is unpredictable. I attended a spiritual care meeting, had a family care conference and then I was dealing with a portable handwashing station for an upcoming petting zoo.
Baby goats, lambs, bunnies and a pot belly piglet were about to arrive and so were impatient residents waiting in line.
The station had previously been used by another site. It had been returned like a ‘came damaged’ online return that perhaps did not come damaged. So, there I was on my hands and knees wearing RW&CO dress pants, scrubbing away while trying to figure out how it worked.
A therapy aide saw the puzzled look on my face and came to see if he could help. It was plugged in, making a promising rumbling sound, yet no water was coming through the faucet.
Unlike Bobby Darin, I did know there was a party going on so I needed to figure this out, and quick.
I continued pretending I was making some sort of progress when a therapy assistant came out and asked if she could be of assistance. Get it? Assistance. (I’ve never said my jokes are sophisticated).
To be completely honest, I don’t fully remember how it happened (memory repression). However, the moment we figured out the problem..
Suddenly there was a splish, splash and I was taking a mucky, smelly water bath.
My squeal sounded alarmingly similar to the pot belly piglet that had not yet arrived. After there was a-splishin’ and a-splashin, I was reelin’ with some kind of feelin’.
The therapy assistant was trying not to laugh while also looking equally as disgusted as I was bent over laughing and gagging.
Afterwards I went to the washroom to try to clean myself up. Even though I couldn’t hide what had happened, I also couldn’t hide in the bathroom. We all know who hides in the bathroom during parties… the party pooper.
So, this smelly duckling did a rub dub without the Dawn soap tub and like our friend Bobby, joined the party.
