Another first for dada; while holding a birthday-suit-clad baby as the bath was prepared, I felt a warm sensation on my stomach. This was followed by a little laugh from young Samson, as I discovered a large, damp stain on my t-shirt. I had been peed on.
Now I'm no stranger to pee. I got used to the "no diaper geyser" in the early days of Samson's life and learned to see the signs. Ok, he still manages to trick me every once in a while and water the wall in those three seconds he's not covered by a diaper.
However, this was something new entirely. Had he stared blankly ahead, it might have been chalked up to being an accident.
But he laughed, and therein, as they say, lies the rub: I think our little guy has discovered comedy. And you have to admit, peeing on your dad is pretty funny. (Within limits, obviously; this would be troubling, if not cause for enrollment in military school, if he was 15 and doing this; but at 11 months old, it's pretty damn funny.)
1 comment:
Ah yes....the pre-bath tinkle. Shaye was quite good at waiting for that 6 seconds of transit between the changing table and the bath to "express" herself. This would usually happen when Nikki was out of town so I had no backup. Clever girl. I think she got a kick out of watching me curse, scramble over to the tub holding her with arms extended as if she were a bomb, remove my now-soaked shirt and perform our nightly bath ritual topless. Let me tell you, the edge of the tub can be cold when you lean over it bare chested.
Good times.
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