Reggienstein

Reggie loves his baths. "Baff" was one of his first words. He loves to play, splash and pee in the bath as any normal kid would. But sometimes he really doesn't like the whole soap and shampoo thing. And by sometimes, I mean every time so far in his life. SO there I was soaping my boy up when he started to pull away from me. He slipped but I caught him before he finished his fall. And yet I still heard a strange thud. He looked ok. The bathtub looked ok. Then I looked at him again. And there I saw, between his eye and his nose, a hole wide enough to fit a sharpie marker through. He had nailed his head right into that little ceramic soap dish that pokes out (the one that isn't there anymore thanks to my favorite hammer) And soooooo... I rinsed him off. Dried him off. Put on a diaper and dressed him. Then I dressed myself (I was still in a towel from my shower. The shower in which I did NOT hit my head on anything). We got into the car and drove the point three miles to the hospital where they stitched up my little man. Sorry Reg.