Christened

After 13 months of artful avoidance she finally got me. A diaperless Baby Smithie urinated through the towel she was being dried with post bath, my sweatshirt, the shirt I was wearing underneath and got my pants a bit too. I smiled, cleaned us both up, read her a story or two, put her to bed, wadded the soiled cloths up and stuffed them in the bottom of Mrs. Smithies hamper. Her laughter didn't sting so much when I told her the first part of the story after she got home.