A simple shower, that's all I ask for. I sneak into the bathroom while Eva is distracted, turn on the water. Before too long I hear the pitter patter, door pushing open. Then "Mom-meeeeeeeeeeeee!!" Then toys, coloring books, crayons come splashing into the tub. Then the curtain is flung open and fully clothed Eva is trying to climb in. So I strip her down, pull her in, try to finish rinsing off while she plays with the shampoo bottles. Then she turns and looks up to the rack hanging from the shower head and sticks up her little hand declaring there is something she wants in that direction. The soap. No, just wait. I'm almost done. "Mom-meeeeeeeeeeee!" I relent. She sit and rubs soap on herself for a bit, sneaks a bite when I'm not looking. She's happy, I'm happy. Shower is about over, must get soap out of her hand and baby rinsed off. Colossal battle ensues. Finally pry slippery soap out of her grasp. Kicking and screaming she reaches up to rub her eyes. Now she's screaming from soap in her eyes. I'm prying hands away from her face, spraying water in her face, she's squirming to get face out of water, I'm laughing my head off because somehow I knew this was going to end badly. This is life with a one-and-a-half-year-old and I'm still learning the ropes.








