Dom had a meeting this morning. After he left I took my breakfast into the living room, plopped Bella down to roll around on the quilt and settled in to read on the couch in a nice warm sunbeam. Then Bella got fussy and as I jumped up to grab her the tail of my bathrobe knocked over my juice glass, splashing orange juice all over. And this was not the tiny 8 oz glass you get at a restaurant. No, this was a pint glass almost full of juice. It splashed on the coffee table and began to run and drip on the magazines and the box of coasters. It splashed on the rug and on the quilt and on my feet and on Bella’s nightgown and in her hair. So I scooped her up and ran into the kitchen and well, all the messy cleanup details are pretty boring; but you get the picture.
So then I decided it was time for Bella to have a bath.
She’s had only a handful of tub baths. Ever. Just doesn’t seem worth all the trouble when she doesn’t really get dirty. A washcloth usually does the trick.
But now that she’s sitting up there’s a whole new world. She loved splashing in the water, discovering the joy of slapping down her hand. She also loved grabbing the washcloth every time I dropped it and immediately jamming it into her mouth and sucking, despite my protests that it was covered in soap. But hey, Johnson and Johnson is non-toxic, right?
She was quite content, even when I laid her back to wash her hair. Until I pulled her out and wrapped her in the towel and took her off to the changing table to dress. Then she began to howl. With tears and everything. I guess she now loves bath time.