I broke the bathtub.

And not because I’m the size of William Howard Taft. 

If you know me or follow this blog, you know that I have a wild child on my hands — a climber, a jumper, a monkey, & curiosity junkie.  Last night was bath night, so like every other bath night we walked upstairs together, gathered her towel, and headed to my bathroom.  We turned on the water to my over-sized garden tub, added some bubbles, toys, & a naked baby.  She splish-splashed with delight and drank soapy water even with my constant objection. 

After a few minutes of play, it was time to wash her sticky locks of blonde hair.  I was lathering the Johnson & Johnson’s into her hair, pulling pieces up into a mohawk when she decided to stand up.  Sometimes in the tub, because it’s so wide, she is just out of my reach.  So when she decided to stand up, I had to over extend my reach to get my hands under her arms.  “Okay, let’s sit down so Mommy can wash the soap out,” I said to her.  And as I lifted her slightly in an effort to get her into a seated position, she decided to jump. 

I wasn’t ready for it and I slipped. 

I came crashing down onto the hot water handle with my arms extended while holding a 23 pound slippery & naked weight in my arms.  I put Babycakes down and struggled to catch my breath.  (Do you feel sorry for me yet?)  When she saw me crying, she started to cry so I had to put my tears away.  Painfully, we completed the bedtime routine and today…

I have an appointment at the doctor this afternoon.  When he tells me that my ribs are broken I’ll ask if I can post the x-ray picture on the blog.  Until then, I’ll just be hobbling around at the Football House trying not to move. 

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What do you suppose is the lesson to be learned here? 

If you bathe a monkey, use a smaller tub?