“Momma! My feet are clean!”
That’s what Ryan said to me this morning after cleaning his Hobbit feet last night. Seriously, it looked like my son had performed some kind of metamorphosis and turned into Frodo Baggins. He’s got this thing about wearing shoes that close in his toes – he just plain doesn’t like how it feels – so all he will wear are sandals. Until recently anyway when we bought him a pair of crocs. So now he’ll wear sandals or crocs but do NOT ask him to put on tennis shoes because it is not going to happen. Sean has a little bit of a difficult time understanding it but I just let him wear what he wants. What’s it going to hurt? The only thing that happens is his feet get REALLY dirty! lol
The bath last night was ended on a rather dramatic note when Ryan decided it would be a good idea to play with my razor. Many tears and two band-aids later he’s okay but it was pretty intense for a while. Funny thing is, in the heat of the moment, when he’s in the throes of agony, his biggest concern was that he wouldn’t be able to finish his bath. The power of the bath …it is legendary.
Aaaah, puir puddin’!
Sorry he got hurt.
Thanks! Haven’t we all had moments like that as children? I remember playing with a razor blade once when my parents were making stencils in order to paint my bedroom floor. It was so sharp and I would slice it across my skin but it didn’t bleed. My sister let me do it on her thumb but guess what? It bled, like crazy! I got in SO much trouble for that!
I think Ryan was ok until he saw the blood and then it was all over. He was really upset but Sean is so good in those situations. My fear is so overpowering that I don’t do very well. Thank goodness he’s usually here when these things happen!
Evie