At her appointment with the cardiologist yesterday, Peeper was cleared to go back to the baby equivalent of “tub baths,” rather than just “showers.”
(Which, actually, are pretty much tub baths and showers – sitting in a mother’s lap in the tub.)
The conversation went something like this:
Whozat: So, is okay to submerge her again?
Dr. C: Well, no baby should be submerged!
Whozat: Not her head! Just to take a bath, instead of a shower?
Dr. C: Sure, that’s okay.
I think he was kidding, but it’s hard to tell with folks around here, because they don’t have much of a sense of irony, sarcasm or hyperbole.
(I should really write more about that sometime. It’s a very interesting – and annoying – phenomenon.)
So, that said, little Peeper got a “real” bath last with Mommy yesterday.
Evidently, at some point during the four weeks that she’s spent on dry land, she reached splashing age, and we just didn’t know it yet!
Shrike tried letting her sit up on the bottom of the tub, but she seemed to prefer for to “float” and have all four limbs free for splashing.