This morning, while Margaret labored in the fields of education (and, just for those of you who are interested, produced a very passable paper flower AND managed to dip a great deal of her hair in green paint), Ellie took advantage of the peace and quiet to have a nice, relaxing bath, where the only elbows and knees flailing about were her own, and there was no one waiting until she had found a toy that she liked, and then ripping it out of her hands.
It was a lovely experience.
Until people started snapping pictures, and saying "smile, honey" and -- and this is the most terrible thing of all -- REMOVING HER PACIFIER.
Humph. She snorted loudly, though, and the photographers backed off. And she continued to have her bath right up until the point that she decided that it would be funny to take her boat-shaped pitcher and tip it out of the bath, and then when she was told not to, she looked me in the eye, giggled, and proceeded to do it anyway.
She has become wicked.
Appreciate the recommendation. Will try it out.
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