Tinkle Queen

Big Baby E likes to take baths. Baths get her excited. By the time she is down to only the diaper she is clinging to you like an iron-grip koala desiring transport to the bathing facility. Once the tub is ready, we proceed to remove her diaper with a bit of ceremony. I think we started to add a little extra to make the bath more exciting in the beginning, but now it is just a part of the routine.

For the ceremony, I sit on the toilet holding her under the arms, standing, facing away from me and start the song. Da-NA-na-NA-na-NA, t-tsch...t-tsch. Yes, I am teaching my daughter to strip to music; seductive music. Maybe not teaching, but at least creating an association with "fun times ahead." Is it ever too early to discourage a career in the broadly-defined "adult entertainment" industry? I am an adult by age and am entertained by this.

Yesterday, she was indeed very excited about bath time. As Christa held the freshly removed diaper cupped in her hand, the Squirt Burger laid one on me. I don't claim to understand much of the inner workings of the female parts, but I am always impressed by the specific directionality of the flow. This one shot right to my inner thigh, a good three seconds.

My first thought was "Squeeze your legs together." WHAT!? Why was I trying to protect the tiled bathroom floor? Why was I SO OK with being peed on that I wanted to keep as much of the pee as possible between my legs? This was not just a fact of parenthood. This was me trying to turn my legs into a watertight flesh cup to retain as much urine on and about my person as possible. The urine was not providing relief from a jellyfish sting. It was simply pee on me. And I apparently wanted to keep it that way.

I wish I could say it was out of love, but it makes more sense that I love the tile floor in that scenario, since E would more than likely have stepped in my pee pond had the retaining walls held another couple seconds. And desiring your child to step in a urine pond is not very loving.