Bathtub Crisis
posted in Frenzied Daddy |
Daddy!! HELP!! Daddy!!
Miss K was bathing; I was reading in the hallway, keeping an eye on her and one on my book. She had been sloshing back and forth in half a tubful of water and bubble bath, and her shampoo for nigh thirty minutes, and was rapidly approaching “done.”
Besides, Miss B wanted, needed a bath as well. We had to get this one out. But please, a few more pages, please. I’d lift my eyes from this engrossing book, make sure she wasn’t face down in the water and just flailing for the fun of it, and go back to reading.
That’s when her cries split the air — “Daddy! Help! Daddy!”
I threw the book down and stormed closer into the bathroom; no, there was no water on the floor, she was breathing… what could the matter—
“Daddy, my toes are wrong. I want my own toes back!”
She was disraught. She couldn’t believe that those horribly wrinkly toes were her own.
Oh.
I guess it was time to get out of the tub.
