We went nine months. Nine whole months. All our friends gradually fell fowl to the sorry end to the day that is a number two in the bath. But not us.
And then it happened.
Last night, we got back from swimming & I dunked Baby Girl in a bath full of foamy bubbles. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Suddenly, my nostrils were filled with the oh-too-familiar smell of poo. I looked around, “what the hell?!”. Toilet, empty. No diaper in sight. Suddenly my eyes settled on Baby Girl.
Yes. She held her little orange squeezey frog & just blinked up at me with a very solemn face. It was a face that said;
“Yes, Mama. Under the bubbles…”
I whipped off my jeans, scooped her out of the baby bath (hands under her arm pits, trying not to touch any poo water!) & we both got into the big bath. I ran the tap & started scrubbing (gently…ish) her hands & feet before she had a chance to get them in her mouth, all the while bubbles foaming up water swirling round her in the big bath.
Baby Girl splashed & giggled & flailed. She thought it was brilliant. The big bath has so much more room for splashing!
I fear the big bath only rewarded her behaviour. What have I done?!
And so I add another badge to my collection. I really would have been ok with not getting this one. Really.
Ps; thanks to the Other Half who disinfected everything & cleared up said event. One Dad Badge well earned there!