He was utterly covered in chocolate ice cream, and refusing to get undressed. He did get several warnings. I think he thought his strategy was bulletproof, so was most unimpressed and flummoxed to be plonked in the bath anyway, but within two minutes had asked for help taking his wet clothes off and was happily playing.
DH says it was mean and ott. I think it was preferable to:
A) spending the next half hour negotiating, pleading and wheedling as we all get more tired and overwrought.
B) pinning him down and stripping him while he screamed blue murder and fought me every step of the way.
C) letting him go to bed with chocolate ice cream dried in his hair.
DH is now sitting with him no doubt commiserating about my cruel regime. But AIBU?