Wednesday, March 07, 2007


I quietly snuck away from the dinner table when I was quite certain noone was watching. I crept into my bathroom and drew a seriously hot bath. I carefully placed two favorites of the many books I'm reading on the edge of the tub. I considered lighting candles, but was afraid the scent might draw attention to my secret location. I tested the heat of the water with my left foot to be sure I wouldn't be scalded but tingling hot. I eased myself down into the tub, closing my eyes. I took in several deep breaths till I felt relaxation. I let the first silence of my day overtake me. It was a beautiful time. I dried my hand and reached for a book.

I know you know what's coming. Yes, a knock, "Mommy, are you in there? Girls can take baths together, right? Don't you want some company?"

A masked disappointed, "Hummm" was all I could manage, which of course Pooh Bear took to mean, "Come on in. The water's fine. I'd be ever so lonely without you."

From that moment on, perfect silence was abandoned. Pooh Bear shed her clothes, put on swim goggles, and jumped in with a splash beside me. I heard endless chatter of swim team, mermaids, Jesus walking on water, manatees, sharks, sleepovers, friends, and dance class.

I have to ask myself, "How much longer will the girl even want to take a bath with me or even fit in the tub with me?" There is coming a day when modesty and self conciousness will kick in, but I still have a little precious girlhood left to spend with her. I hope to never preserve quiet at the cost of intimacy with my daughter.

1 comment:

~m2~ said...

i love this story - and you are (painfully) correct: modesty, time allowance, desire -- will be lost as she ages.

however, wonderful conversations still evolve and now, they include her friends who share more with me than their own moms because i have an ear to hear them. this is why i make sure projects and outings still occur at chez penni.

(the bath, however, sounded wonderful!)