pants: Joe's Jeans, sweater: Ann Taylor Loft, boots: Kelsi Dagger
i know i've said it before, but showering with the baby is so easy. however, now that she's had a few big girl baths (i.e. not in the sink--in the real tub), G prefers a bath to showering. and so i take baths with her. and mostly it's pretty great. i like taking baths with Gemma wayyyy better than leaning over the tub trying to wrangle her into a headlock for a good srubdown. we sit and splash water at each other and play with all her toys and make ourselves bubble beards and top hats so we look like dapper bath folk. Cleo occasionally comes in to say hello and will sit on the bath mat to keep us company and it's generally a happy time for all of us.
but the fun has come to an end. i shan't be bathing with the baby anymore. because Something Happened.
the other afternoon G and i were joyously playing in the bath and singing an impressive rendition of One Direction's "What Makes You Beautiful," when she lunged her slippery body towards me for a quick and spontaneous snuggle, then pushed away with her soapy feet to go back to her side of the tub where the chewing of the rubber ducky happens. only when she pushed away from me, one of her toes found its way into my bum crack and it dangerously grazed the entrance to my b-hole.
i shouted out in surprise and lept up and out of the tub. forever.