(In case you were wondering my glorious shining moment was two posts ago, now on with the this…)
The kids were finally all in bed, all that is except James of course – I was sitting in my chair working on getting him to sleep. He had just barely closed his eyes and appeared to be heading off to slumber land. Paul brought me in a delectable root bear float. He had even been so kind as to stick a straw in it.
The straw didn’t help much. As I tilted the cup slightly towards me, my lips reached out searching for that conduit to foaming utopia. Suddenly I felt a cool sensation on my chest and down my right side. I looked down and saw rootbeer cascading down my front. Then I rembered the laws of nature involving mountains and valleys – when dropped on the peak water won’t only run off on one side – so into the valley, where James’ sweet barely slumbering head was resting, the river ran.
Ummm…yeah, it woke him up with a start, that icey, stickiness. He woke up even further as Paul had to wash all the stickies off.
I wish I could claim some proven theories about rootbeer being good for a baby’s complexion, but I don’t think there are any.
And I will forever be known and teased (by my loving hubby of course) as the mother who gave her child a rootbeer bath – that just sounds cruel. 🙂