Erin has become Miss Independent when it comes to taking her bath now--she can start the water, shampoo her hair, rinse, plug the tub for playtime, drain it, get out, and dry off all by herself. Sometimes I don't even realize she's had a bath until I hear the sound of the hair dryer. It shouldn't have surprised me, then, that she'd try to solve any problems that arose during the process on her own...and yet, somehow, she always manages to pull a new one.
Tonight I left her a fluffy, full-sized towel folded up on the corner of the laundry basket, since her princess hooded towel had been left in a damp, crumpled heap on her bedroom floor last night. When she was through with her bath, she came running down the hallway wrapped in her towel to inform me, in the living room, that there was a problem.
With her towel.
It was soaking wet.
Apparently, the towel had fallen into the bathtub while it was still full of water. Being gigantic and fluffy, the towel evidently soaked up all the water that was in the tub. Erin decided to solve this problem by wrapping the waterlogged towel around her and then coming to inform me, leaving a river of water in her wake. She couldn't seem to understand my haste to get her back into the bathroom and separated from the towel, which seemed to have absorbed the entire Pacific and was dripping it all back onto my floor.
Thankfully, my hardwood floors are easy to wipe dry, and it didn't take her long to soak the Pacific back up again...but not before she slipped and fell, banana-peel-style, on one of the puddles she'd created. You can tell she's my third child...I didn't even bother to ask if she had hurt herself; I just laughed. At least she's a good sport about it all.
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