Tubtime

A little evening tale about Sam:
After having a wonderful bathtime (see above) playing with his graduated cylinder and beaker, all of a sudden he flipped out. Eric got him out of the tub, and wrapped him up like a burrito in a towel. That was hard to do because he was flopping his head back and screaming his head off. I was in my rocker, and said, bring him to me, and he did. And as soon as I held him, he calmed down. And he put his head on my shoulder and it was good.

I held him there for a minute, thinking it just doesn't get much better than this, holding a sweet-smelling warm soft little boy with teeny little biscuit bottoms. I don't get to cuddle him very often when his bottom isn't diapered. And he was so soft, his feet were pruny he'd been in the tub so long. And it was Good.

And he sits up, moves around, bumping noses with me and being sweeter! And it was Good.

He and the towel shift and he finds himself sitting up in my lap. He looks down, and moves the towel more open, points to himself, and yells, "Isa PeePee!" And he giggles madly like it was a surprise. Points again, yelling "Sa Peepee!" Like I hadn't noticed. Beautiful moment crashed by Pure Boy.