All familiar characters and events belong to Janet. The mistakes are solely mine.
"Nice shot, tiny Babe," I told Olivia, expertly stepping out of the way of the tsunami-sized amount of water she managed to get outside of her bath.
"Maybe instead of encouraging her to be even more destructive, you should add another towel to the floor," Steph not-so-subtly hinted.
I tugged on the ends of her ponytail and grinned when I felt that the floor isn't the only thing wet. My wife's curls are also damp. I did as she suggested and then focused on the mayhem happening in front of me. Olivia's dark hair is pressed flat against her head under the weight of all the water it took to thoroughly rinse it out.
"Did you get the peas out of the strands before or after the tidal wave hit our bathroom?" I asked my wife.
"More during it. I was trying to rinse the shampoo-suds out and Olive took advantage of my being busy with her hair and she started using her Submarine spray station to hose down the entire room."
"If you'll recall, I did say that buying any toy that shoots or sprays water is a flood waiting to happen."
"Yeah, but this little Super-soaker," she said, handing Olive a washcloth to play with to distract her from the water that's now draining out of the baby tub, "was so good the first time we used it - probably because you were there and she didn't want to jeopardize her 'I'm Daddy's Everything' status, she tricked me into thinking the toy wasn't going to be a drowning/flooding hazard. I was wrong. I'm as wet as she is."
Just to poke the bear, I couldn't resist it. "I told you so," I told Steph.
She paused long enough to let me know she was thinking of payback. "Yep ... you sure did tell me so. To prove how right you are, you really should get to experience how 'soaked' feels."
She got Olivia's towel, slung it over her shoulder, and then lifted our daughter out of the baby bathtub and onto her toweled-body. She managed to get the cotton partially wrapped around our baby before passing the wet - and strongly-squirming - bundle to me so I'd get a dousing too.
Steph stepped back and grinned at us. "My mother always told me that she hoped I'd have a daughter just like me so I'd know how she feels, but I wouldn't change one thing about our little cyclone."
"Just for the record, Babe, that wasn't a curse from your mother ... it was actually something I actively wished for. As soon as we found out we were having a girl, I put in a special request that our daughter be exactly like you."
Olive chose that moment to squirm around and add another eight ounces of bath water to my T-shirt ... I also got a chin full of wet baby fine hair that smelled slightly floral this time.
"Are you sorry you just said that?" Steph asked me, trying to towel dry the parts of Olivia that are sticking out. "Now that you just got Baptized by our baby?"
"On the contrary. And my mother and Grandma Rosa will be pleased that my Christening just got a boost."
"Daddy's a funny guy, isn't he, Olive? And we still love him a lot, don't we?"
Olivia drew her head back, creating more moisture along my jaw, and glanced Steph's way.
"Don't look at me," her Mama said, pointing back at me. "We're talking about Daddy here."
"Dada ba bub," my daughter said to me.
"How about 'Dada, diaper please?'" Steph added.
"One 'Pamper'ed princess coming up," I promised them both.
"Okay ... and I'll handle the attention-wanting watchdogs. I think for Olive's next bath, I'm going to stick Mo and Gunny in with her and let the three of them sort the pea/shampoo-situation out. At least that way they'll all be free of baby food at the same time … at least one time."
"No," I felt compelled to say.
"I had a feeling that would be your one syllable."
"We'll be back in a minute or two," I told her, before taking Olivia to the nursery.
Having missed out on being able to do this for Julie, I'm a father who never tries to shirk diaper-duty. And I enjoy wrangling all of Olivia's limbs into a clean onesie that will only remain that way for about an hour. Like her Mama, Olive plays as hard as she eats.
Olivia got a Supergirl-style fly-ride back to her mother, but we couldn't immediately locate Stephanie or our dogs. Having cameras and men everywhere in the building, the mystery solved itself almost before I started worrying.
"Steph, Gunny, and Mo, are currently down here in the lobby," Gene called from the ground floor in order to tell me.
"She was up here when I left her."
"Yeah, that's why she wanted me to quickly tell you where she is now ... so you wouldn't worry or have to bundle up Olive and come after them." He paused as if listening to someone. "Umm, okay ... she's coming back up now. Edna and Mary Lou are already leaving."
"Once Olive's settled, I'll explain," my wife told me five minutes later, over the commotion caused between our dogs barking in excitement at seeing Olive and our baby talking back to them.
"Is this disappearance something I should be concerned about?" I asked just to be certain.
"I'd guess you'd feel the opposite about this news. It's not about us ... not exactly. That's why Mary Lou and Grandma didn't stay ... just dropped the bomb and ran for cover. I really didn't want to ruin the rest of our day. Too much of our family time has been messed up lately."
She kissed Olivia and then me before calling and herding Gunner and Ammo into the living room, knowing Olive and I will be following right behind her.
I knew what was coming ... and I can't regret it. My man, Decay, already informed me that Morelli was taken to a hospital down in Aruba, having had a much more dangerous water-encounter than what Steph, Olivia, and I, just survived. His was due to a one-two death punch of getting 'narked' during a cave-dive an amateur such as himself really should've avoided, and then having the issue overcorrected which caused a deadly case of 'the bends'. Grave news involving Morelli doesn't concern me, but how Stephanie chose to not react to hearing it does.
