Baby Lika was usually gentle, shy, and soft-hearted—but today, the moment she realized it was shower time, everything inside her froze. Daddy picked her up with warm hands and a gentle smile, but Lika knew that familiar walk toward the bathroom. Her tiny fingers curled tightly around his shirt, clinging as if it were her last hope. She shook her head over and over, her little lips pushing into a pout that was seconds away from breaking.
When Daddy tried to lower her toward the warm water, Lika let out a soft whimper. Then another. Then a full, trembling cry. She tucked her legs up to her chest, refusing to let even one toe touch the water. Her eyes filled with tears that shimmered like tiny pearls, sliding down her cheeks as she clung harder, pressing her face against Daddy’s shoulder.
Daddy spoke softly, whispering calm words, telling her it would be quick and warm. But Lika didn’t want to listen. Her heart raced, her breathing fast and shaky. She pushed gently against his chest, not out of anger—just fear. She didn’t want the water. She didn’t want the soap. She didn’t want anything except to stay tucked safely in his arms where everything felt steady and known.
When Daddy tried again, she let out a heartbreaking cry, the kind that came from deep inside her tiny body. She wiggled, twisted, and shook her head, begging him without words to stop. Her little hands found his arm and gripped it tightly, her entire body trembling.
Seeing her fear, Daddy finally paused. Instead of forcing her, he sat on the edge of the room, holding her close. Lika slowly calmed, her heartbeat easing as she buried her face against him. He rocked her gently, letting her feel safe again.
Only when she felt ready—when the trembling stopped—did she peek at the water. Daddy waited patiently, smiling softly. And little by little, still clinging to him, Lika let herself get closer.
She still didn’t love showers…but she loved Daddy’s patience even more.
