Bath Time or Torture. One or the other.

Z is meeting his grandparents Blum tomorrow so I thought we should bathe him. The past two days have been hot and humid, yet Z still wanted to be worn in the Moby wrap which left both of us sweaty and gross. Not to mention homeboy spit up during tummy time and rubbed his head in it before I realized what had happened. Yucks.

Z was dead asleep around the time we wanted to bathe him so I had a brilliant idea! Sure, it was time to eat but he was so sleepy, let's bathe him and then give him his bottle. Then he might get cranky during his bath but the bottle would soothe him. Great idea right? 

No. Maybe in theory, but not in the mind of our baby who seemed to believe that not only was this bath thing possibly going to kill him, but if it didn't he was definitely going to starve to death. The child screamed as I have never heard him scream before. Shrieks. Ear shattering shrieks. I anticipate the police will be showing up any time now to investigate the neighbor's reports of child abuse. Poor scooter. We snuggled him big time to make up for his trauma.