Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Tsunami Warning in Idaho

Tonight I wished I would have listened more to the radio. The skies were quite overcast this evening on my drive home from work. I had the radio on long enough to hear that there was going to be a winter storm warning issued in the higher elevations of Idaho, with some other (and much less severe sounding) storm warning for the valley. After grinning a bit to myself at the possibility of snow, I turned off the radio and called Wifey to let her know I was on my way home.

Sometime between the time we finished our grilled cheese and tomato soup dinner (can you ask for a better meal on a cold, overcast day?) and about 7:00, the rain started to come down. It didn't come down very hard, as Idaho is a desert region. In fact, there wasn't even that much of it. Little did I know, there was going to be a tsunami coming my way in a few minutes.

Wifey asked me to go give Munchkin a bath. She is one who enjoys her bath time. You can say things like, "splish splash" and watch her lightly tap the water. An occasional drop might escape the tub, but Munchkin doesn't like to be splashed in the face, so it is pretty calm. But tonight was different—she must have been feeling her oats.

It all started with the filling of the tub. As the water was pouring in, I placed her into the tub. She scooted close to the stream of more than tepid water coming from the faucet so she could stick her hand in it. She just kept turning to me while smiling and babbling, getting a kick out being able to play in the water. The water went off, and she started her normal exploration of the various floating toys, going from foam blocks to rubber ducks to bath books and back again. Then she landed on the container that we use to wash her hair.

This is one of those plastic containers that looks like something you might fill an iron with before pressing your shirt, although much more colorful (unless you are ultra chic and have some modern iron that is more of a design piece than an iron). Ours came with the baby bath that we used to use. It has a nice spout and holds enough water to wash off the soap, so we still use it.

Anyway, Munchkin picked up this container and started to pour water out of the spout per the usual custom. After several attempts of mimicking a waterwheel, her arm was getting tired. Being the smart cookie she is, she decided that she needed to use both hands. She picked up the full container as it proceeded to empty directly on her face.

This is the first time I have heard Munchkin let out an audible gasp. I think it startled her to have a small deluge of water directly on her face. I was interested to see if she would cry because she was startled, but beyond the gasp, I didn't get any reaction. She didn't even look my way. Little did I know, she didn't look at me because she wanted to start the mischief.

Now that her face was completely splashed, she really didn't have any inhibitions in the tub. The normal coaxing from me, "splish splash" was accompanied by larger arm windmills than I had previously seen. Pretty soon, she was turning circles in the tub while flailing about. I could tell she was having a good time, but the water was starting to get colder, so I laid her down to start the washing process.

Then the tsunami hit.

Munchkin likes to kick in the water. Tonight, she started kicking the second I laid her down. I got the washcloth soaped up while the tide started to rise. It subsided momentarily while I attempted to get one leg at a time soaped up, returning twice as strong after both legs were covered in suds. A dull roar, much the same as you might expect when approaching a class five rapid while rafting, roared in my ears. As I started working my way up to wash the rest of Munchkin, she started opening her eyes and mouth very wide while speaking in a very excited, low voice. For those of you who don't have the opportunity to hang out with Munchkin, when she gets excited, she pulls out her husky, low voice to let you know of her glee instead of a shrill, girly noise. It is pretty funny. That voice was working just as actively as her turbocharged legs.

She was even so enthralled tonight by her tidal wave abilities that she let me wash her hair without any protest—there was no pulling away, no batting at my hands, no trying to pull the washcloth from me—nothing. It was amazing.

Needless to say, I wished that the National Weather Service would be a little bit more descriptive in their less severe storm warnings to include exactly what I might expect to see. It is nice to know that a storm is coming, but if the National Weather Service would have let me know that I should expect a tsunami warning instead of a downgraded winter storm warning, I might have dressed in a slicker instead of a long-sleeved sweater.

No comments: