Friday, March 30, 2001

Wings of Cotton


I give Kelly her bath as often as Jean does, and it was last night that I realized that Kelly and I had more or less drifted into a post-bath ritual. After the wash, she climbs out dripping, as I stretch the towel out behind her like wings.




Kelly backs into the towel, and I wrap her in it, enclosing my arms around her. Then I pick her up into my lap, and I hug her dry. My shirt and pants usually get wet, but that doesn't matter.




I don't know which of us enjoys this ritual more.



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