Unless you have the proverbial heart of stone, you'll find delight in the embedded video shot on the spur of the moment Monday evening.
Fiona, my little granddaughter, hates baths. Baths frighten her. She's a little skittish and the sudden feel of water sets her off.
Monday evening my wife, Judy, and Fiona's mom tried a new approach. With Judy holding Fiona seated at the edge of the bathroom sink, mom splashed warm water on the little girl's feet. At one point, mom took a colourful bath toy, a little duck, and used it like a squirt gun shooting water on Fiona's feet. The baby was absolutely delighted.
I heard the giggles and grabbed my little camera. Enjoy.
I never had children of my own, at least not as babies. My wife came into our marriage fully equipped. I missed the entire baby experience. (Oh, I did have experience with my sister's children but that was so very long ago; I'd totally forgotten the details surrounding the joys of caring for a baby.)
I watch Fiona and wonder, "What is she thinking? She has no language; She cannot put together a thought using words."
I imagine she thinks in simple bursts that, if we could translate them, would sound like a comic caveman. "Hungry." "Funny." "Interesting." "Friend."
She has a good attitude towards life. She's a very positive little person. If something is awful, the moment it is past she move on. If something grabs her interest, she shares her enjoyment with everyone present. And she takes such great enjoyment from the simplest things. She truly loves life.
I know that we adults are teaching little Fiona, she watches us constantly. She is learning. But, and I find this surprising, I'm watching Fiona and I'm learning. This grandfather thing is not a one-way street.