The Bath Time Guest

Few things comfort a not-so-new mother quite like a glass of wine, a good book, and a warm bath. Especially when those three can be enjoyed in conjunction, while her little angel sleeps peacefully down the hall. Tonight, I had such a luxury. But lest I delve too deeply into the pleasure of a still August eve and forget the precious impact of my new role, Eloïse left me a quiet reminder. For there, floating next to me—a diaper crevice refugee, escaped from four tiny teeth and a pint-sized stomach—was a small piece of broccoli.