Page 8 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“But it is true.” I tap her nose. “I’ll get it ready for you.”
“Ugh, I’m not even that dirty.” She stomps down the hall, pausing outside the bathroom so I can get the water running for her.
“You’ve been to school, you’re dirty,” I argue. “I’ll get some clean PJs for you.”
“Not my unicorn ones. I’m not feeling very rainbow at the moment.”
I hesitate by the bathroom door. “Because you have to take a bath?”
“Yes.” She leans her head back. “It’s going to wash away my sparkle.”
I bite my lip, so I don’t let my laughter escape. “Okay, then.”
Closing the door behind me I grab some pajamas—not unicorn ones—from her room and bring them back. She’s already in the bathtub laying on her back looking up at the ceiling.
This child takes dramatic to a whole new level.
I put her pajamas by the sink like I always do. The water sloshes as she sits up, the back of her hair drenched now.
“Remember, wash your body with soap. Use the cloth.” I point to the one I set out previously. “Wash your hair, too. Don’t think I won’t know if you just got it wet.”
“I know,” she groans. “I’ve got this.”
That’s what she always tells me before she tries to pull one over me. So many nights I end up having to force her back into the shower to wash her hair. I hope I’m not the only one with a child who acts like she’s allergic to soap and water. I continue to give her a chance to handle it on her own, wanting her to take that independence if she wants it.
Shutting the door behind me, I take a second to catch my breath before joining Jameson in the kitchen.
“Need any help?” I call out.
He shakes his head, turning around. “Nope. Just finishing up.”
Coming up to him, I wrap my arms around his solid stomach. I don’t know how he finds the time to exercise with as busy as he is at work, but he says it’s his me time. My me time usually consists of stuffing my face with Oreos.
Resting my chin on his chest, I look up at him. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“Well, you make the best coffee, so it was easy to fall in love with you.”
I stifle a laugh. “Oh, so my ability to make coffee is my only redeeming quality?”
“One of them.” He winks. “Is the Tiny Terror giving you trouble?”
“She’s hated baths since she was a baby.” I pull away from him and hop up on the counter. “She used to scream bloody murder during every single bath, so at least that doesn’t happen anymore.”
“Don’t worry. One day she’ll love them and run up your water bill.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe she’s six.”
Jameson has known her since she was four and even in that short time she’s grown and changed so much already. As much as she might try my patience at times, I wish I could slow things down, savor the simple moments a little longer.
I know they’ll be gone in a blink. These times are a short blip in my life.
Jameson narrows his eyes on me, probably wondering where my contemplative look has come from. “You’re a good mom. You know that, don’t you?”
I wrap my arms around myself. “Some days I feel like the worst parent in the world and others … she’ll do something, or say something, and I think maybe I’m doing all right at this whole thing. Parenting is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I love being her mom.”
“You’re amazing,” is all he says, kissing me gently.
I don’t know what twist of fate sent Jameson into my path, but I’m glad for it.
