I came downstairs after getting cleaned up tonight to find Miles already sitting at the table, eating dinner. I tousled his hair as I walked past and noticed it was damp.
“Did you take a bath?” I asked, surprised because I hadn’t heard a bit of protest from him (normally, his wails would echo up and down the street).
“Yeah,” Miles said. “I smell great.”
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 