I gave Paige a bath tonight. It was my first time. Yes, in three months, this was the very first time I had bathed my child. It didn't go well.
Up until tonight I had gladly let Jen take care of this little responsibility of parenthood. Jen's very passionate about cleanliness so I willingly stepped back and let her follow her passion. It's not that I'm indifferent to how dirty or clean my child is, it's just I have an irrational fear that somehow I will fuck this up because I haven't had sufficient training.
But I had to step up to the plate this evening. Trained or not, my baby needed cleaning and Jen needed to finish painting if we were going to get the master bedroom furniture moved in tomorrow.
The bath part actually went pretty well. Paige didn't drown once and I remained relatively dry. I was actually feeling pretty proud of myself as I dropped Paige on to her towel. As I started drying her off though, Paige commenced throwing an epic fit. I was flabbergasted. What had I done wrong? Had I missed a step? You wash the baby, you dry the baby, you dress the baby. 3 simple steps. And I somehow flubbed it on the second step.
I tried rapidly progressing to step 3 and thinking that getting her dressed would make up for whatever horrendous drying mistake I had made. No luck. Jen had to step in and restore order.
I was crushed. I moped over to the master bedroom to carry on the painting that Jen had to abandon when it became obvious that I had no control over the baby situation. The only solace I had was the knowledge that if Jen ever asked to give Paige another bath, I can just remind her of this little episode.