I find it a little ironic that my little Jameson is such a water baby. I mean, I was sure she was a boy when I was pregnant. and our boy name is Fisher… and now I’m calling her my “Little Fish” anyway. Funny how that works out, huh? ;)
I CANNOT keep this girl away from water. Any water at all.
Bathtub? Well, that’s a given… she’s climbed in fully clothed on multiple occasions, just because she’s too impatient to wait threefreakingseconds for me to undress her.
Sink? She’s almost tall enough now to stand on the stool and turn on the faucet… almost. For now though, she just stands on the stool and screams “TEEEEEEEEETH” at me until I turn on the water and hand her a toothbrush.
Pool? Duh. And she has no fear – always trying to climb out of her floaty, and jumping in without a life vest on like it’s no big deal at all.
Water bottle? Don’t even try to drink one around her. Don’t. Even.
Dog dish? The most frustrating obsession of all. The word “no” has absolutely no effect on this child when it comes to the dog dishes. She wants to SWIM in Tali’s water.
I kid you not, people… she just walked up to me AS I WAS WRITING THIS, threw an empty cup into my lap and yelled, “WAWA!!”!
My Little Fish. My cup runneth over. <3