Georg von Trapp remembered what he had adamantly wished for when Maria was pregnant with their first child, or the baby temporarily known as Acht. He wanted a miniature Maria.

Looking at his daughter, he realized God had a sense of humor.

He indeed had gotten his wish, a blond-haired, blue-eyed mischievious little thing, curious and unable to stay still, even when asleep. From the beginning of his 2 1/2 year-old's vocabulary development she steadfastly said what she thought. Of course, this was when she was not
singing something indecipherable at the top of her lungs. She was also a champion snuggler. The signs of his parentage were in a certain
smirk of hers and her reticence in accepting people she did not know. But once she did accept someone she was fiercely loyal. Much to Georg's amusement, Uncle Max did his utmost to impress her from the day she was born. He was finally fully welcomed into her realm of patronage when she was 18 months old, the moment arriving when she bestowed upon Max the care of her favorite doll. He didn't hesitate to tell Georg and Maria it was the most glorious moment of his life.

But what brought Georg the most joy was her love of water.

From the beginning she was happy to take a bath, most of the time assisted by Maria or one of her eldest sisters. At four months old, Georg took her for her first outside swim and she delighted in it. He took her out as much as he could before the weather would not permit it, and when it became warm enough again they happily picked it back up. He was thrilled that she took to water like, well, a duck to water.

Thus he was in his current predicament.

It was bathtime. Maria had been busy elsewhere and he had volunteered to undertake bathtime duty. Admittedly, for someone who adored his daughter's adoration of water he did not do bathtime very often. He did, however, make sure there was a sufficient and varied supply of toy boats for her to play with, whether they were used in the tub or during their outside swims. If any other child had a superior bathtime submarine collection he would challenge the parents to prove it.

After thanking him, Maria told him to don his most worn pants and not wear a shirt.

He arched a brow and smirked, but obeyed.

Now here he was. It didn't take long to discover that although the minimum amount of water necessary was in the bathtub, as instructed by Maria, his baby girl made sure to get herself fully wet before he even had the chance to bathe her. She was making sure he was getting wet too. It was a miracle the toy boats in the tub hadn't capsized.

He did his best to bathe his excited daughter, grateful for his state of attire. He couldn't help but recall a time when his wife and his seven eldest children got soaking wet falling out of the rowboat. Of course, it also reminded him that when piqued, Maria's doppleganger would look at him much like Maria did when she argued with him beside the lake.

It was not too soon before he was rescued.

"Schatzi, remember that Brigitta is going to read you your bedtime story."

A squeal of delight was followed by a tidal wave of most of the remaining water out of the bathtub. She haphazardly toweled herself off and did not bother with her nightclothes as she ran out of the bathroom and down the hall, looking for her favorite storyteller.

Maria chuckled and bent down to pick up the bedclothes as Georg, soaking wet and sitting in a large puddle of water, leaned against the bathtub.

"Do you remember, darling, when I told you that I climbed my first tree when I was four?"

She disappeared as he groaned.