bathtime magic

Auntie Jess, Auntie Jess. I could hear that all night. And I did. And I'm not complaining. I walk through the doors and they claw at me, reaching only to my hips with their cute little fingertips on their even cuter little eager tipy-toes. I pick them up with a big swoop and body slam them (gently) on the couch. Yes, I am that Auntie. We play. Always. We dump out all the toys from the bins (oh I eemembah you, she says to her chewed up Barbie having a very bad hair day), we take out allll the crayons and markers and color for minutes at a time, put glittery stickers everywhere, watch movies, and have cake and yogurt (on the floor); but it is bathtime that I really love. It is bathtime that is pure magic.

There's something transformative about the water. Clearly. Bubbles make way to Santa's beard and ho, ho, ho's give way to excited smiles and silly laughter. Mermaid lagoons live underwater and rubber ducks come to life quacking incessantly. Ships explode making a different noise each time-pekoosh! boosh! pawww!-splashing every dry spot in the room. Friends that may not have been amigos before, say Dora, Nemo and Horsie--get along famously now and may even need each other for something. Even the household facecloth has a character, job, use. Bathtime is magic. It makes me smile. It sparkles with childhood innocence and imagination. It brings back my innocence. My sweet nieces...

In their own world.

The sweet innocence of little girls.

The simple things. Look Auntie Jess.

I love you girlies.