Waaah bath time

At home we do baths in a tub shaped like a blue whale. She splashes around in it on top of the bathroom sink and munches on a duck.

I couldn't bring the tub to the motherland, and she's too big to stick in the sink, so we do baths in the big bathtub.




Which apparently is an experience akin to one of the nine circles of hell. When V realizes that I am going to stick her in this giant crevasse, she starts whimpering and clutching at me. As I lower her down she gets louder and more frantic, and initiates the grip of death. She remains at the whimpering level as long as I let her hang onto my shirt, hair, skin, eyelids, whatever she has latched onto while she stands in the tub while I am bent over at a ninety degree angle. I soap her down with one hand while maneuvering the detachable shower nozzle in my right hand. Once her body is rinsed off, it's time for her head and arms. For this she has to sit down in the tub, because I can't clean her hair when it's pressed against my face. So she starts screaming. In a tiny space. With ear shattering acoustics. Aaaack. As soon as I pick her up to dry her off and let her see herself in the bathroom mirror, she laughs. Drama queen!

I guess if someone lowered me into a large container that had walls as high as I was tall and sprayed me with water I might cry.

I tried showering with her once. I've read about all these women and their wonderful bonding experiences in the shower. Well I got soap into v's eyes and I almost dropped her about 80 times because she was like a little slippery fish and regardless of how I stood one of us was getting sprayed in the face. SO RELAXING.

So yeah. Blue whale tub. A must.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone