The Baby and the Bathwater

"May I?" Frodo asked.

Eglantine and Pearl exchanged a surprised glance. Tweenaged lads did not often volunteer to care for babies. But then Frodo was no ordinary tween; often he seemed to prefer the company of his younger cousins to that of his peers.

"It is not an easy task," Eglantine warned. Though she knew in her heart that Frodo would never let Pippin come to any harm, it was a big responsibility to bathe any baby, and her son was a very enthusiastic bather.

"I know just what to do," Frodo assured her. "I bathed Merry many times when he was younger. Besides, you are so busy today. I would like to help you, at least a little." He smiled, radiating responsibility and confidence.

Eglantine smiled in return, the last of her resistance melting away as she handed her son to Frodo. "I know you were a wonderful help to Esmeralda and Saradoc, and I appreciate your assistance today. Thank you, Frodo. Be certain to find me if you have any trouble."

"Fro-oh!" Pippin said, slinging his arms around his cousin's neck. Chubby fingers latched onto Frodo's curls and tugged eagerly. "Bath!"

Eglantine remained in the kitchen with her two youngest daughters to begin the day's baking as Frodo carefully dislodged Pippin's hands from his hair and followed Pearl to the bathing room.

"When it's warm enough, we like to bathe Pippin outdoors," Pearl said. She left Frodo and Pippin in the passageway and ducked into the bathing room, retuning a moment later with the small tub they used for the baby, now empty, as well as towels and soap. "That way there is less to clean up later," she explained.

Frodo nodded. It seemed reasonable enough, and he was delighted that he would not have to mop the floor afterwards.

Outside Pearl spread a towel on the grass and Frodo settled Pippin on it, before he went to fill the tub with water. When he returned Frodo set the tub in the shade of a tree and Pearl draped a towel over a low branch, creating a bit of shelter from the road.

"Are you certain you won't need any help?" she asked, obviously doubting him.

"I am," Frodo replied quickly. He lifted Pippin high in the air and grinned. "We're going to have lots of fun, aren't we Pip?"

Pippin giggled.

"Very well," Pearl said as she headed inside to help her mother and sisters with the baking. For a moment Frodo frowned after her. Was it his imagination, or had Pearl been struggling not to laugh?

His eyes eagerly fixed on the tub, Pippin wriggled impatiently in Frodo's arms, calling his cousin's attention to the task at hand. Kneeling on the ground, Frodo quickly undressed the baby and plunked him in the cool water.

Pippin delighted in baths and unlike so many other babies he never cried or fussed. Now his high, childish voice began to sing, half in nonsense words, as Frodo lathered his hair.

Frodo smiled fondly as he listened. Even Merry had not been so agreeable to bathe – for all that he was a Brandybuck and loved the water, young Merry had a rather no-nonsense approach to bathing, and was never inclined to sing, or even talk, while washing.

As Frodo rinsed Pippin's hair the baby grew silent and peered up at his older cousin, smiling placidly. "Bath, Fro-oh?"

Frodo sat back on his heels and smiled, charmed utterly by the baby's sweet, happy nature. "Yes, Pippin. It's bath time."

With a piercing shriek Pippin flung his arms and legs out of the water, causing a large wave that completely drenched Frodo's front. Before Frodo could react, Pippin laughed and sent another stream of water high enough to soak his big cousin's curls.

"Whoa!" Frodo shouted, furiously rubbing his eyes to get the soapy water out of them. "Pippin, stop!"

"No bath?" Pippin asked, pausing in his attempt to splash again. He looked up at Frodo with wide, innocent eyes. "Fro-oh, no bath?"

"Not now!" Frodo exclaimed, pushing the sopping wet curls out of his eyes in irritation.

Pippin giggled. "Bath now!" he crowed, pointing triumphantly at Frodo's drenched shirt.

Frodo glared at Pippin for a long moment. Was the little imp mad? Then, very slowly, Frodo found himself smiling against his will.

"If you were a little older I would dunk you for splashing me like that," Frodo confided as he struggled to lift his very wet and very wriggly cousin out of the tub. He wrapped Pippin snugly in a towel and wagged a finger at him. "One thing is for certain – you're frightfully dangerous. I pity your sisters. I suppose I'll have to keep a close watch on you from now on."

"Pppfft," Pippin said, clearly undaunted.

"Hmmph," Frodo agreed, standing. Holding Pippin securely on his hip, he wandered a short distance away to sit beneath the open kitchen window. The smell of bread baking wafted through the air and Frodo stretched lazily across the sunlit grass, settling the baby on his lap as Pippin began to sing again.

Frodo listened with a smile. He was glad he had a little cousin to look after once more.