Jemma loves her bath. When I take her into the bathroom at night (or if she sneaks her way in there another time of day), she stands right up at the edge of the tub and starts squealing and banging her fist on the side of the tub, like, "Mommy, let's get me in there!" Once in, she splashes half the water out, is obsessed with this little red plastic cup, and spends the whole time trying to stand up. I guess the tub is just such a sturdy surface for her wobbly feet. Tonight, she discovered her reflection in the overflow drain cover and spent at least 10 minutes licking it. So, it's fun to see her so happy in the water, but it's a little stressful, too, trying to hold down a slippery, determined Jemma. And the minute I lift her out . . . the crying begins, and it doesn't end until the last, bitter snap is snapped on her jammies and she can get OUT of that horrible bathroom. What a stinker.
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