I remember when bubble baths used to be the best thing in the world. Laughter always floats among the airy bubbles that line the cool white enamel of the tub, and ready hands are always prepared to grab a slipping little person who happens to stand up when they should be sitting down. Shampoo foams gently on their little hands as they insist to 'do it themselves', and toys float like a piece of driftwood on a quiet sea. I wonder if they'll remember these bubble baths when they grow up. Finally clean, they stand up and hold out little arms, soon to be engulfed in a white towel that wraps around them like a warm hug. I wonder if all babies like to cuddle when they first come out of the bath. Blue eyes peek above the wrappings, and wet, curly hair sticks to their chubby faces. There is nothing quite as precious as this, I think.
This is a week night when my nieces took bubble baths.