Bathtime Fun
Once the floaty tugboat LCD flashes 92 you can lean over and secure Danny into his red and blue baby bath seat. You’ve done this five or six times. Nothing to it. After your grandson is splashing and kicking you can finally relax. Maybe your daughter will be back from the grocery store sooner rather than later, if your wife doesn’t make too many impulse buys.
You take a knee after Danny starts singing along to the water gushing from the mouth of the green plastic hippo bath spout cover. He’s all smiles. Drooling. One big tooth pokes out of his gums. You hand him rubber duckie. Danny pops the yellow plastic right in his mouth. Everything has to be tasted. Squeaky squeaky.
When the pain begins you think indigestion. You love crunchy sweet pickles. One hand to your chest. When you think it’s fading the pain sledgehammers. You slide to your back on the wet black and white tiles. Danny doesn’t miss you yet. He thinks you’re playing. Boo. You have to turn off the water. Danny razzes you. He just learned how. You attempt a laugh. Can’t. You have to sit up. Have to pull the plug. Pull the plug. . .
