Emily sat in the backyard making mudpies. It was a warm sunny summer afternoon. The flowers were all in bloom with the bees abuzz and the ladybugs dancing along the daisies.

Emily had settled at the edge of a soft, squishy patch of ground in her grubby clothes. Daddy left the hose on for her from watering the garden, and a bare patch of ground had gotten soaked. She had a couple of old pots and pans Daddy had given her from the kitchen after Mara had moved her stuff in. She sat there making Left-handed Mudloaf: Gather up mud into pan. Reach out with left hand and take a handful of whatever is there - leaves, grass, bugs. Add to mud. Pat down into pan. Serve at room temperature.

She brushed at the hairs across her forehead and cheeks, leaving streaks on her face. The occasional ant wandered over her leg unnoticed. A potato bug crawled out of the mudloaf pan no worse for the wear. She was captivated by the worm poking its head out of the ground and crawling away. She didn't touch it, she simply found it fascinating.

Daddy watched from the kitchen window. Mara was out with her friends for the afternoon and evening. It's just the two of them at home tonight.

She was quite intent on what she was doing, earnestly making mudpies, mudloaf, mudcookies and mud-covered crabapples fallen from the tree. The tip of her little tongue poked out the corner of her mouth.

Emily set the mud products up on a flower bed divider to bake in the sun. She turned back to gather up the pots and pans to clean them. She turned on the hose - too hard at first. She jumped at the surge of water. She got the water flow turned down to something more manageable and rinsed out the pans, making a bigger mudhole in the process. Dropping the hose, she patted the edge of the puddle with her foot. She giggled. She squished the mud with her shoe, watching it ooze out from underneath. She splashed. She laughed. More splashing. She laughed some more. More and more -- tap dancing in the puddle. Jumping in the puddle. Jumping in the lake. Jumping in the -- whoops! Emily slipped and fell on her behind. Her pride was badly injured. She cried loudly in case Daddy was around to hear her. And of course, he has been watching the whole time from the window, sipping his coffee. He rushed out to rescue his little princess. He turned off the water on his way to her. He tried to get at her without getting all muddy himself, without going through the puddle, but she was sitting right in the middle. And she reached up to grab onto him. Mud all over his shirt. And shoes. And just about everything else she could possibly come in contact with. He lifted her up and out of the mudpuddle and stood her on a drier patch of ground. He squeezed her in a big DaddyBear hug. The mud from her face and hair found its way onto him. He took her hand and they walked back to the house.

They got to the kitchen tile and he stopped her. He took off his own muddy shirt and shoes, and stripped her down. Their muddy clothes and shoes went back onto the porch for later laundry. A very naked, feeling-much-better girl streaked through the house, laughing as Daddy chased her playfully to the bathroom. He told her to gather up some toys while he ran the bathwater. Emily came back with plastic animals and cups and colorful sponges. He checked the temperature of the water before tossing her in, squealing in mock fright. He put her hair up with a hair tie while she splashed and paddled around in the tub. She filled and dumped the cups repeatedly, sometimes on the shower wall, some on herself, some over the rubber duckie floating in the middle of the tub. Daddy gave her a squirt of his shaving cream to play with. She used it to fingerpaint patterns on the wall. It slid off into the water where one of the animals dove right into it. The polar bear came back up, looking like it was foaming at the mouth. Daddy and Girl both shouted in fear at the viscious plastic polar bear. She plunged it back into the water, rinsing the foam back off. Emily looked up expectantly at Daddy. He obliged, giving her another shot of shaving cream. This time she fingerpainted on her tummy and chest. Somethng in Daddy's crotch stirred as she smeared the foam over her little nipples. She made swirls around her belly button and breasts, lines along her ribs, dots over her pudge of a tummy. Then wiped over the design and starts again. Daddy helped, too, tracing her nipples with his finger. She giggled at him and went back to playing with the polar bear.

Daddy let her play a bit while he cleaned the mud off his face and out of his hair. When he was done, he picked up the washcloth and started washing her. He did her back and neck, one arm then she switched hands holding the bear so he could have the other arm. He washed her tummy, rinsing off all the shaving cream. The friction and temperature caused her little nipples to stiffen. Daddy took his hand back over them, to feel the stiffness against his palm for a moment. She concentrated on trying to make the rubber duckie float upside down.

He washed her face. She protested and sputtered and spit dramatically, as usual, and lived through it all, despite her best efforts. He had her stand up in the tub so he could wash her bottom and legs. He stood her up facing away from him with her hands on the wall, legs spread apart. He rubbed the washcloth over her cheeks and in through the cleft. Then he washed all the way down one leg, and back up the other. She turned around to face him. She put her hand on his shoulder and lifted one leg at a time so he could wash her feet. Then he had her stand legs apart again so he could wash between her legs.

He pulled the drain plug and dried her off with a big fluffy towel. Emily watched the water swirl down the drain, listening to it gurgle as it went. Daddy told her to put all her tub toys in the sink for rinsing off while he found the baby powder and her nightgown. He finished drying her off and powdered all her parts. He put her in her nightgown. He let her wash off her animals and toys herself, turning off the water in time to narrowly avert another splashfest. She set all her toys out on a towel Daddy had laid on the counter -- the duck waddled to his spot, the bear galumphed noisily to his -- while Daddy got the kitchen sink ready to wash her hair. He called to his BabyGirl to come out to the kitchen and patted the chair he'd put right by the sink. Emily got up on the chair on her knees. "Over you go," he said, and she leaned her head over into the sink. He took the elastic out of her hair.

Daddy washed her long hair with the sink sprayer, being careful to keep the water out of her eyes and ears. She was a bit of a fussbudget and water got on her face anyway. She hollered and fussed and made noises. Daddy took the end of the towel and patted her dry and went back to work on her hair. He got her all rinsed off then bundled her head into the towel. She got up off the chair and went to the table and sat patiently, waiting for Daddy to clean up and get ice cream out. They ate their ice cream together. Daddy finished first. While she mooshed hers in the bowl, making ice cream soup, Daddy combed her wet hair out. Emily looked up at him. "Piggie-tails."

He smiled and said, "You're going to bed soon. You know how uncomfortable pigtails are when you're trying to go to sleep." She frowned.

"Piggie-tails!" He looked her in the eye.

"No pigtails at bedtime, sweetheart." She pouted, "Piggie-tails" with almost a whine. "Are you going to finish your ice cream or not?" She scooped up the last of the ice cream mush and got up from her chair, stomping through the living room.

Daddy picked up the bowls and spoons and put them in the sink. She went potty and put her animals back in her toy box. Daddy called out to her "Are you in bed yet?" She shouted back "Yes!" and grabbed her favorite teddy bear and blankie, scampering off to Daddy's Big Bed. Daddy knocked on the open door.

"Ready to be tucked in?" Emily nodded. He tucked the covers up around her. Then he got her toothbrush and brushed her teeth. She opened up wide for him, so he could get at everything. When he was done, he took her toothbrush back to the bathroom. He took care of his own evening preparations for bed and came back to the bedroom. He stood there looking at her a minute. She was lying on her side, holding her blankie and bear. All sweetness and fluff, she was. He got undressed then got into bed. He reached for his Little Girl, pulled her nightgown up over her bare bottom, and snuggled his naked body against her spoon-fashion. She smelled of clean skin, wet hair and bubblegum toothpaste. He sighed. He kissed her cheek and turned out the light.

"Goodnight Princess."