Panicked, I ran to the bathroom, expecting something terrible—an injury, a rash, something. But when I looked in, all I saw was Sam happily splashing in the water, giggling like any normal 3-year-old.
Confused, I turned to my husband, who looked pale and stunned. He pointed at Sam and whispered,
“He… he asked me if I wanted the ‘spa setting or the jets on full blast’… then handed me the remote.”
Turns out, the foster family he lived with before had a high-tech, voice-activated bathtub and clearly spoiled this little guy rotten.
