It’s the new thing we do in the tub: shark attack.
Bella has this set of plastic fish and sea animals. Somehow only the shark ever made it to the tub. At least I think it’s a shark. Maybe it’s just a fish.
Anyway, the other day I was trying to distract her so I had the shark “attack” her belly. Uproarious giggles. And her foot. More giggles. And her neck. Giggle, giggle. And then I got tired of the game. And she picked the shark up and pressed it back into my hand. Sometimes she’s pretty good at communicating without words.
So I got more elaborate. Shark swims around, circling. The Jaws music plays: da-dum, da-dum, da-dum…” And then the shark lunges for her tender little belly and she giggles some more.
And tonight a new twist. After shark had attacked a few times and then I’d distracted her with some foam letters and was busy scrubbing her soapy belly with the washcloth, I looked down and she was pushing shark at my hand. At first I thought she was telling me to make shark attack her again. And then I processed the sounds she’d been making: “da, da, da, da…” Was that her version of the Jaws music? I think shark was attacking mama’s hand!
Sure enough I attacked her a couple more times and then she attacked me. Dom swore, when I’d called him in to witness it, that she even said something that sounded suspiciously like “shark attack” when she banged him into my hand.
This is such a fun age. Not only does she laugh at my jokes and think I’m hilarious, I love the fact that she wants to be just like us.
Then again, it’s also just a little bit frightening to know that she’s watching. And learning. And nothing slips by those sharp little eyes.