One of my least favorite things to do is give Michaela a bath. That's normally Daddy's job. Of course, with Daddy gone for two weeks, it's not like I could just let the kid get stinky.
Today was finally the last bath I'll have to give her for this trip. After having to bribe her with the chance to play with her new play-doh to finally get her IN the tub, she didn't want to get out. Well, that's not entirely true. She just didn't want me to wash her hair, so she kept asking to play longer.
The result of that was the world's wrinkliest bath hands. I took this picture about 20 minutes after she was all dried off and everything, and yet she was still a prune.
The good news was that at least letting her play for that long meant she didn't cry when I rinsed the soap out of her hair. Yay for small victories.
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