Ignorance is bliss



There are really only three occasions that I wish Eli were a girl instead of the chubby ball-o-boy that he is: when shopping for formal occasion outfits, when I see flowered headbands, and when I give him his baths.

Eli LOVES his baths.  You get him all squishably naked and lower him into that nice warm water and he just... relaxes.  And because he's so relaxed there's about a 50% chance that within the first 30 seconds of his bath you'll see a small fountain bubbling up as he adds his own addition to the water.

Peeing the bath usually results in much hullabaloo as I quickly yank him out, lay him screaming on the towel, rinse out the tub, and refill.  We both agree that it's a decidedly unpleasant experience, so much so that if it happens towards the end of his bath I seriously debate the merit of refilling the tub instead of just accepting an abrupt end to bath time and go straight to drying off.

As I was rehearsing this process for the 20th time last night I thought how nice it might be to have a girl and never really know if she had soiled her bath water or not.  I could always assume she hadn't and proceed happily on.  Then I remembered.

My mother-in-law introduced the modesty washcloth as a way of comforting the babe during the bath, but it also doubles as a pee-blocker.  Genius.  Now I never know what's going on down there unless it's being scrubbed.  And that's the way I like it. 

As my mother says, "The secret to the solution is dilution."