Space Girl loves splash landings – having a bath.
She always has – I think because we’ve made it fun. And she’s made it noisier and wetter than it would otherwise be.
Before Space Girl could sit up she laid in her bath seat while we washed her, passed her toys (usually to suck), covered her in foam and played peek-a-boo over the edge of the bath. In her seat she could splash to her heart’s content, blow raspberries at us and lift up her bottom then put it down to make a satisfying and loud tight squelchy fart noise.
It was panic stations the first time it happened … when, after a bout of underwater farts, a poo surfaced. Me holding onto Space Girl, pushing toys out of the way and carefully scooping the poo into the toilet. Such a dramatic missile launch at the end of a bath was a firm, and sometimes not so firm, favourite for quite a while.
Once Space Girl could sit up then she moved onto laughing heartily at the peek-a-boos over the edge of the bath, and the suddenly appearing ‘hello hello hello’ monster (Mummy’s gecko shaped woolly bath pillow) and having handfuls of foam accidentally sneezed onto her. And when sitting up she could commit to some prolonged full force splashing.
Now that Space Girl can stand up (always using rubber bathmats for safety) she has her Freddie the Fish bubble machine (*), floating toys to hold against her tummy and squeeze to make a farting noise and stuff to grab from round the edge. She no longer jettisons loads but instead we are treated to an occasional standing up wee.
I don’t share Space Girl’s enthusiasm for baths. For me they are cold, suspicious and bored affairs: Cold because I get a choice of either shoulders or knees above the water – wet and feeling the slightest breeze; suspicious because I wonder if I’m just redistributing the dirt rather than washing it away as I would in a shower; and I get bored once the novelty has worn off from playing with the glowing duck, the bubble machine and pressing my finger under the tap to see how far the water squirts.
I did like baths when I was much younger and used to share one with my brother – me secretly weeing, happy in the knowledge I’d scored a small victory over him. Years later he told me used to do the same.
(*) Not affiliated.
Next post February 3, 2014
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