"Come on Daisy, it's been over half an hour! You need to take a bath!" I yelled out as I ran down the hall. The lilliputian ran as fast as her fragile little legs could take her, putting all her effort into evading my grasp. As we left, he hall and entered the front room, she ducked under several chairs and the coffee table, causing me to jump and dive as I ran after her. During my pursuit, I quickly abandoned my original plan of avoiding noise, so as not to rile up her siblings, once I required more speed. After going several rounds, I got frustrated and chucked a bottle at her, hitting the wall just above her. The smurf ducked, hands over her eyes as the glass sailed overhead. It shattered on the wall, spraying glass and beer remnants over the floor. Daisy peaked out from her hands in disbelief as she looked at the impact zone, causing her to stand still long enough for me to catch her. She cried out and squirmed as I held her up with both hands and finally led her to the bathroom.
Despite my best efforts to get everyone ready for bed, my second youngest Daisy was given me a hard time. I had gotten everyone else to sleep with relatively no problem, though I was quite tired. When it finally came to getting Daisy, she uncharacteristically backed away from me. I was confused at first and merely put off investigating, instead focusing on her siblings instead. However, as it came closer to her turn, I began to notice her getting more and more anxious. When I opened up the living room playpen to bathe her, she ran out and had been playing hard to get since then.
Entering the bathroom, I turned on the light and began to fill the sink with warm water. I placed Daisy in the tub so she couldn't run away while I got her bathing supplies out from under the sink cabinet. It was very late and I was tired but I couldn't send her to sleep dirty. I poured some scented oil in the water to freshen her up and lowered the lights as well. Once ready, I turned around and went to pick her up. I spoke softly to her, blowing kisses to her as I held out my arms, and waited. Yet instead of coming to me as usual, she merely backed into the end of the tub. I tried to assure her, telling her how much I loved her and how much I wanted her to be clean but she refused to step near me. I tried to be patient but my temper got the best of me and I went to her instead. I went to pick her up as I always do, one hand around the chest another holding her legs or bottom, and as I did the most unexpected thing happened to me. I was not more than an inch from my dear smurf when she lunged out and nipped at me.
I was surprised at this, firstly because she had never done anything like this before and secondly because she had bitten my finger enough to draw blood. I stared at the single crimson drop on my middle finger, perplexed. I looked down at Daisy, cowering far below me. Her back fully pressed against the tub wall, she breathed heavily as she scratched at herself, mainly her back and waist. Curious, I left the bathroom and Daisy, who watched me intensely as I closed the door behind me. I could hear her hooting out for me as I walked to the hall closet and opened my tool box.
Opening the bathroom door again, I slid on a pair of rough canvas gloves which I used at work. I figured with how strange Daisy was acting there had to be a logical reason for it. Coming near the tub, I bent forward and quickly snatched her up from off the ground. She barely had time to react before I bound her torso with a towel and angled her in a way so I could hold her better. As the events started to register within her tiny, smurf baby mind, she started to squirm and tear up.
"I know Daisy, I know, but I just need to make sure you are alright," I said over her protests.
From a nearby drawer, I took out a pair of scissors and began to carefully snip away at Daisy's clothing, starting with her shirt. I removed a ring of cloth around her, exposing her waist and lower torso. Her little legs kicked out as I worked, trying to get away from me. I tossed aside the fabric and continued cutting down, through the elastic in the waistband of her diaper. I felt the tension give and with a quick tug I was able to slide them off her. The source of the problem was immediately evident.
The entirety of her posterior was covered in raised, bright red flesh with radiated heat. As soon as her diaper was off Daisy began to thrash and scream as loud as she could. No wonder she bit me; this was probably causing her pain all day. I set her back in the tub and then went to get the medical kit. After a quick search I found a tube of hydrocortisone creme. Coming back to the bathroom, once again took the squirming little smurf into my arms and continued to undress her, this time just tearing off her shirt with my spare hand. Her tears, flowing heavy, continued as did her screaming while I brought her to the sink waters. Once I placed her down did she get some relief from her diaper rash.
With a brief moment of piece, I took the time to compose myself before I continued. After a quick breather, I took Daisy and began to lightly splash her with the warm water. She attempted to replicate her normal bathing routine but anything which caused her to move or sit would cause her pain. I did the best I could to wash her without causing her pain but despite my attempt she still whimpered and yipped underneath my hands. I felt the night slipping away. How long had I been at this with her? It didn't take this long usually. I can't be wasting time doing this right now, I needed all the sleep I can get. What was this I felt?
Continuing absentmindedly, I tried to accommodate her injury but eventually I saw her screams and cries as impediments rather than something serious. I took out her brush and scrubbed her head, face, arms, and chest. Without much thought, I quickly flipped her over and firmly brushed her bottom. The second the bristles touched her skin, Daisy began to bawl, her howls echoing off the walls. I scrubbed in small and big circles, trying to remove any scabs or debris. As I worked, I could feel Daisy grasping at my fingers trying to get me to stop. After thirty seconds of rigorous brushing, I placed the brush down and dunked Daisy under the water several time to rinse her. Each time she rose from the soapy depths she would cough and splutter as she tried to clear the water from her tiny lungs. She would be able to get only a single breath in before I would dunk her back into the water, where she would start the process over again.
After she was good and dizzy, I placed her into the sink again, opened a nearby bottle, and squeezed the contents onto my hands. Working it into a thick lather, I then suds her down. Daisy, her head still spinning and a bout of nausea forming in her stomach, was powerless to stop me as I covered her whole body in a carpet of white bubbles. I held her for several seconds and then dumped some water over her head. I then firmly wrapped my finger around her neck and chest and held her as I washed her hair. My fingers worked and massaged her think scalp, giving her some pleasure before a wayward stream fell down her face and burned her eyes. She quickly inhaled some air and was about to scream but was cut off when she was dunked back into the bathwater. Coming up from the water, Daisy emerged a very clean but somewhat disheveled little smurf.
I drained the sink and put her into a towel to dry her. She simply lay in my arms without putting up a fight, instead she just looked around while holding onto my finger. I lay her onto her side and kissed her head before I applied the crème. She flinched as my finger made contact but otherwise did not stir. Perhaps I had tired her out or maybe she had given up. Either way, she allowed me to powder and diaper her without any further incident. She did complain slightly as I slipped on her night clothing, but quieted down once I fastened the last button and took her into my arms.
Once her bath was over, I turned off all the lights and sat on the couch while giving Daisy her night bottle. She drank quietly as she looked up at me from her swaddling. After a couple minutes, her eye lids began to droop and soon after she was asleep. It was never easy having to do these types of things but it was part of my responsibility towards them. I kissed her on the forehead as I got up and took her to the smurf room. There, I lay her in the sleeping cage with the others where she was quickly surrounded in a huddle of warmth with her brothers and sister. With the day now finally over, I made my way to my bedroom, for a well-deserved glass of whiskey and some shuteye.