The morning air was fresh, and the sound of chirping birds filtered through the bathroom window as Dam’s mom prepared for his daily bath. The tiny boy, barely old enough to understand why baths were necessary, already wore a look of resistance. Perched on the toilet cap, his tiny legs dangled as he clung to the edge with his little fingers, his wide eyes fixed on his mom as though pleading for mercy.
“Alright, little one, it’s time to get clean,” his mom said cheerfully, holding the water sprayer in one hand and a small bottle of baby soap in the other.
Dam’s tiny body tensed immediately. He shook his head vigorously, his messy hair bouncing as he began to whimper. The sight of the sprayer made him squirm even more, and as his mom stepped closer, his whimper turned into a full-throated wail.
“Nooo! No water!” Dam shrieked, his small hands reaching out desperately. His mom tried to calm him, speaking softly. “Come on, Dam, it’s just water. It’s not scary. Look!” She sprayed a gentle stream onto her own hand, showing him it wasn’t harmful. But Dam wasn’t convinced.
The moment she pointed the sprayer toward him, Dam leaped into action. With surprising agility, he threw his arms around his mom’s hand, holding onto her wrist as tightly as his tiny arms could manage. His tear-streaked face pressed against her arm, and his sobs grew louder.
“Dam, let go, sweetheart,” his mom said, half-amused and half-exasperated. But the little boy was determined. He shook his head furiously, his cries echoing through the bathroom. His small body clung to her hand like a koala, and every time she tried to gently pry him off, he tightened his grip even more.
His mom couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re a strong little boy, aren’t you?” she said, trying to ease the tension. She set the sprayer down for a moment, rubbing his back soothingly. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
But Dam wasn’t ready to be comforted. He looked up at her with watery eyes and hiccuped through his tears, “No bath, Mommy! No bath!”
Deciding to change tactics, his mom sat down on a small stool, still holding her little boy. “Okay, okay, no sprayer for now,” she said gently. “Let’s just wipe you down first, hmm?” She reached for a soft, wet washcloth and began to gently clean his arms and face.
Dam sniffled but allowed the washcloth, his grip on her arm relaxing slightly. For a moment, his sobs quieted, and he rested his head against her shoulder, exhausted from his earlier meltdown. His mom used the opportunity to clean his little legs and back, all the while humming a soothing tune.
But the moment she picked up the sprayer again, the drama resumed. Dam’s eyes flew open, and he scrambled to grab her hand once more, his cries returning in full force. His mom couldn’t help but chuckle. “You are one stubborn little boy, aren’t you?” she said, her voice filled with love.
Finally, she decided to compromise. “How about we skip the sprayer today and just use the washcloth? Will that be okay, my little Dam?” she asked, looking into his tearful eyes. He sniffled and nodded slowly, clearly relieved.
His mom continued to clean him with the washcloth, making sure every part of him was fresh and clean. Dam relaxed little by little, leaning against her as she worked. By the end of the bath, he was calm, though his tiny face still bore traces of dried tears.
Once he was dry and wrapped in a fluffy towel, Dam snuggled into his mom’s arms, his earlier fears forgotten. She kissed his forehead and whispered, “Bath time doesn’t have to be scary, my brave boy. Mommy will always take care of you.”
As she carried him out of the bathroom, Dam rested his head on her shoulder, his thumb in his mouth. Despite the drama, he felt safe and loved, knowing his mom would always be there to protect him—even from the “scary” water.
