I love bathtime.
Bathtime with Milo is a highlight of my day. Or it was, until he started being able to stand and hold onto things.
Unfortunately, he likes to use the side of the tub to pull himself up, then try to jump. Slippery, Milo, slippery. Sitting is no longer good enough for the boy.
He stands, starts to bounce, and his hands fly off the tub. This makes him lose his balance and pitch forward where his chest hits the side, he gets scared, and he cries. The other day he would have pitched right over the side if I hadn't caught him. Even so, he ended up upside down and more than a little disoriented.
I should be thankful that he hasn't whacked his noggin on the porcelain yet. He doesn't always fall though; he went through a week where he'd stand, let go, and then giggle as he stood for a few seconds on his own two feet before plopping back down on his butt. Pretty good balancing, but a poor choice of places to do it.
Enter the shark.
Milo is ten months old tomorrow and already has more bath toys than I can ever remember having. The rubber ducky, some stackable cups, a little bear washcloth, a small juice bottle (it floats and he likes to chew on it, okay?), and now a shark.
The shark (Playmobil, of course) floats and its head is just the right side for him to stick in his mouth, leading to the ever-amusing spectacle of the shark-eating baby. Bear holding a shark? Try again Strong Bad -- this little boy eats both.