My mother used to say this to me and my younger brother when we were children. I didn’t know what it meant back then and, truth be told, I still don’t really know what it means now. Regardless of its meaning, it is what I want to write about this month. Not daggy old sayings but water or H2O.The good stuff.
You see my nearly 19-month-old daughter Matilda has developed somewhat of an obsession with it. Drinking it, touching it and most of all, swimming in it. I don’t know where her love for all things wet stems from but she can’t seem to get enough. When she realises we’ve pulled into the Riverway carpark for an arvo dip her chubby little cheeks raise up high like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.
Another place where my daughter gets hands-on contact with her newfound love is in the shower. We’ve got bath time down to a fine art at my place. It happens just before Family Feud at about 5:50 each evening. I scrub down in the ensuite shower first. My wife, Mich, brings Matilda into the bathroom. She gets a thorough once over with a face washer and that cheap K-Mart baby soap (only $4 a bottle, thank you very much).
My wife then collects her up in a towel and completes the drying/dressing process. However, much to my daughter’s dismay, one step has been dropped from the process lately- that is the five minutes of splashing around with water-safe toys in the bottom of the shower between the washing and drying. Unfortunately “playtime” has become a casualty of the TCC’s strict water restrictions policy.
One thing restrictions haven’t stopped me from doing yet is watering my tomatoes. I have four humble plants in a meter by metre square raised garden bed my wife gave me two Christmases ago. On the odd occasion I’ll attempt to water the plants with Matilda up in my arms.
She loves it. I hate it.
You see, she can’t just sit still up there in dad’s big, loving embrace. She has to pull at the sprinkler nozzle in my hands. Water goes everywhere. All over me, all over her and usually not much on the dehydrated tomatoes.
Her appreciation level of H20 reached overload point just last month when we pulled out the old blue plastic, half seashell pool thing. I think every second family in Australia has one of these. The look on her face while I was filling it up with the hose was one of utter glee.
In front of my wife I made a bid deal about pulling the pool out and filling it up for her. But truth be told I was just as excited to don the board shorts and jump in with her. I guess we know where she gets her water obsession from.