One of the things words can't encompass

[ailbhe]

and photography can't capture and art cannot describe, is the feeling of a soap-slippery baby in the shower, wriggling and laughing while I wash the soap out of the creases around her neck, water beading on her face and slicking her hair down dark.

Warm rain is just about the BEST, apparently.

(Also, before I pick her up, she likes the sound of the shower enough that I can stand in it and get fully, properly washed before she gets bored.)

Comments

[gool_duck]

That's so lovely. It is a good poem-in-prose for poetry day.