I know it’s not good to make assumptions and all, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that this post is going to be the Missus’ favorite. Why? Simple, because this post contains the phrase that the Missus loves to hear:

“She was right.”

Hmph, let me hurry up and write this blog before the victory dances and “I told you so(s)” commence again.

The Missus and I was getting Action ready for her very first playdate with my friend, B, and her daughter, Bunny. It was my time to give Action a bath. As I ran the water for the bath, the Missus tried to warn me on how to wash Action’s hair as she was now afraid of the shower hose. Unfortunately, I was only half-listening as I was concentrating on getting Action’s things ready for her bath. So, while I was warned to not use the hose at all, what i heard was only use the hose to rinse Action off. A miscommunication that Action was all too happy to bring to my attention.

I put Action in the tub and it’s business as usual. Everything is going smoothly. Action is not putting up a fight and letting me clean her with relatively little fuss. Now I’m feeling comfortable and start to relax and get comfortable. I put the shampoo in Action’s hair and start to lather her hair up. I take a minute to let Action splash around in the tub while I proceed to make my, last, and only mistake by going to grab the shower hose.

Action sees me reaching for the hose and starts crying. I tell her it’s OK, and that I’m only going to rinse her hair out quickly. I turn on the the water and immediately learned three things about Action in that moment: 1) The kid can do a “Kong Vault,” 2) Action is fast as F*** when she’s motivated, and 3) getting hit in the chest with a 26lbs wet projectile, HURTS. I felt like Fred Flintstone when Dino used to tackle him when he first got home.

So great was impact from the force of Action jumping on me that I ended up dropping the shower head, sending water everywhere. I manage to grab the hose and turn the water off. After taking a moment to collect myself, I look at Action; the poor thing is shivering and crying, while holding onto me for dear life. Now I realize what the Missus was trying to tell me;

DON’T USE THE HOSE.

Too little, too late.

Unfortunately, I now have a dilemma on my hands; Action still has a head full of shampoo, she will NOT unlatch from me and we still had to leave the house.  Considering the trauma I just put my daughter through, I decided I had to take one for the team. I grabbed her duck pail, filled it up with water and continued to give her, and myself, a bath. Mind you, I was fully clothed at the time with the outfit I planned on wearing out. FYI, I hate getting wet while I have clothes on. Oh well.

The Missus had finished getting ready upstairs, enjoying some welcomed alone time. She started coming down the stairs when she stopped and stared. Action was watching TV, while I looked like someone had kicked me headfirst into the. Did I get any sympathy? Any “What Happened? Are you all right?” *Pffffft* The Missus took one look at me and said, “See? I told you so!!!”

So, there you have it. I will admit when I’m wrong, just as the Missus will kindly remind me when I’m wrong in case i forget. I endured the ribbing, and the teasing, and then we were off to Action’s first playdate adventure.

That didn’t go according to plan either