The Agony and the Wet-stacy

What a week...we'll skip all the gruesome details and just get to where the Muffin meets the road, I mean hose. Geek #1 and I introduced her to the joys of splashing in a sprinkler today since our fair city had cooled to a mild 93 and we didn't feel like setting up the baby pool.

She, of course, loved it. Loved seeing it, feeling it, drinking from it, getting to soak her hair, clothes, and diaper, loved dancing in it. We had as much of a blast watching her. Lovely.

And then there was the other water adventure. The one where Geek #1 decided to find out why she was being so mysteriously quiet this evening as he was checking work email and I was cleaning cat barf out of the rug. And where was the darling? In the master bathroom - already a bad sign.

But when I followed my partner's hysterical laughter I understood both the quiet and the hysteria. Muffin, dear, dear Muffin, was soaked head to toe - again - from dipping her head in the toilet. Then she must have decided to help clean and stuffed an entire bathrug into the toilet bowl. Luckily (I guess) only one would fit.

And in all this mess, where was the toilet lock - the one designed to keep her out of the bowl? In her hands while she chewed on it. But don't take my word for it, we've got photographic evidence.




Again, there are some things they just really don't mention in all the baby books.