Water, hot, envelopes me as I relax.
Days events begin to drift away, along with my stress.
Crying, from the next room, barely a whisper as I loose myself to the comfort of the water.
He is angry that this water is not for him.
He is angry that he did not get a bath before bed.
He is forgetting the apple sauce he wore this afternoon, proud and grinning as it dripped out of his hair, down his shirt and onto the floor.
He is forgetting the warm water of the bath shortly afterwards.
He screams, as I relax in the relative quite.
For whats quiet anymore when you have a rambunctious toddler?
I slip my head under the water and listen to the water drain, enjoying the fact that I may have over filled the tub.
He screams, and I hope he isn’t bothering the neighbors.
Note: I always get him if he is crying in pain or it turns into something more like hyperventilating. This evening he was just angry and he eventually fell asleep.