Yesterday we spent a fabulous day in my favorite Sunday spot, Santa Monica. We hit up the farmers market and went to play on the beach. Wyatt had an absolute blast, skipped his nap and slept the whole way home. Aaahh. This morning I told Brett that Wyatt needed a bath because I was sure he was covered in sand and he needed his hair washed. He would rather die than get his hair wet under the faucet or in the tub for that matter (think cat in a bathtub), so when I checked in with Brett this morning he of course had a story for me.
Wyatt completely lost his mind when Brett got his hair wet. He held his breath until his lips turned a deep shade of eggplant and let out whales that were sure to have the neighbors calling Child Protective Services. Brett was so shocked by how much he was freaking out- which is saying a lot. He flailed around and slapped Brett away screaming "Don't touch me!" This continued until Brett finally got the soap of his hair. At which point he noticed that Wyatt had thrown such a wild fit that he gave himself a bloody nose! At this time Wyatt also realized that he was bleeding because the blood was running into his mouth. He was spitting the blood out at Brett and all over the bathroom. He wriggled away and got out of the tub and sprinted for the living room, Brett chasing after him praying he wouldn't bust his head on the concrete floors. He managed to catch him long enough to pat his little body dry. Wyatt made it to the couch and sat with his arms crossed in an “I’m so mad,” stance while he tried to be invisible so that Brett wouldn’t torture him anymore!
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