Tonight we learned that Rhys does not like bubbles. For the first time, we added bubbles to his bath in an attempt to distract him from the faucet handle and drain plug that he recently figured out how to use. The distraction attempt ended in crocodile tears and desperate pleas to get out of the tub. No bubbles. Got it.
Yesterday Rhys learned the meaning of hot when he touched the fireplace. Ouch. He got a couple of little blisters on his fingers and I got some blisters on my eardrums. That boy was in pain and wanted us to know it. We had planned to take Rhys on a bus ride downtown (weird, I know, but he loves buses) and I thought we'd forge ahead despite the burns (dumb, I know, but I thought some distraction would be good). We were at the bus stop waiting and Rhys was shrieking and another passenger waiting just looked at me like "lady, please, please do not get on the bus with that screaming baby." Fair enough. We headed home.
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