The Bubble Bath

She used to hate water. She would always cry whenever I came near her with a sponge.

She was so little, so young and squirmy. Mom would always close her eyes in fear whenever I asked to hold her. Then her eyes would fly open to make sure that I hadn't dropped my sister yet.

I had never dreamed of hurting my precious sister. Prim was my reason for living, my reason for hunting illegally. I made sure that I had food so that I could live to make sure she was eating and living.

Mom hated giving Prim a bath because Prim would scream her head off and cry all night long.

So it was up to me to wash, scrub and dry Prim's baby soft skin.

The first time I had given Prim a bath was the scariest moment of my life. I had watched mom scrub Prim down, but actually doing it was nothing compared to watching it.

It was hard to hold Prim still and rub her with a sponge at the same time. But an hour later I had Prim wrapped in a blanket and she was safe in my arms snuggled against my chest.

Each time I washed her it got easier. She still wailed, and I still struggled. But I always got her cleaned.

When she was three she discovered the amazing invention called bubbles. I would fill the bath with bubbles and she wouldn't even realize that she was sitting in the water turning pruney. One time I made the mistake of letting the bubbles disappear completely, and her face screwed up when she realized that the bubbles were now water.

It took me awhile to convince her to take baths again, she was such a smart one, even as a three year old. I couldn't trick her with rubber duckies or slippery soap.

I take baths with bubbles just to remember her splashing and having fun. When the bubbles disappear, part of me does too.