Ricky woke up with the sunshine warming his tiny face, but instead of stretching happily like he usually did, he clung tightly to his blanket. He knew what time it was. Morning bath time. And baby Ricky was not in the mood. His mom gently scooped him up, her hands warm and loving, but Ricky twisted, gripping her shirt with his tiny fingers as if trying to delay the inevitable.
Mom carried him to the bathing area where the water was already prepared—warm, soft, and perfectly comforting. But Ricky didn’t see comfort. He saw soap, water, and the end of his cozy morning cuddle. He let out a long, dramatic whine that echoed through the room. His little face scrunched in protest, lips trembling, eyes filled with sleepy frustration. Mom smiled patiently, knowing this routine all too well.
She dipped her fingers into the water, then touched Ricky’s back gently so he could feel how warm it was. Ricky paused. His cries softened, though he kept a stubborn little frown on his face. Mom slowly lowered him into the basin, supporting his tiny body with both hands. The warm water touched his belly, and instantly his arms flailed in surprise. A sharp squeak burst from his mouth before he clung to her wrist like a tiny lifeline.
But then something changed. The warmth soaked into his skin, relaxing his tense little muscles. Mom sprinkled water over his back, humming softly to him. Ricky blinked, confused that maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t so terrible. His breathing slowed. His fingers loosened. His head rested softly on her palm as she lathered his fur with gentle care.
Every few seconds he looked up at her face, as if needing reassurance that she wasn’t going anywhere. Mom smiled down at him, whispering little words only Ricky could understand. The bath that began as a battle slowly transformed into a peaceful moment of trust. Ricky’s eyelids grew heavy, his earlier tantrum now forgotten. The warm water and mom’s touch wrapped around him like a soft hug.
By the time she lifted him out and wrapped him in a fluffy towel, Ricky wasn’t angry anymore. He snuggled into her chest, letting out a tiny satisfied sigh.
A morning bath might be scary—but in Mom’s arms, Ricky felt safe again.
