He felt like he had been trapped in a world where his every need would be tended to, but was slowly smothering any of his attempts to be independent.
The bath she had given him had made him feel squeaky clean. The sweet perfume of the baby oil and powder she had massaged into his skin gave him the overpowering feeling that he had been reborn by baptism into a state of purity and innocence. He felt like he had been baptized into a second babyhood and anointed with the oil of infancy. He sighed in defeat and looked around at the high chair. The heavy oak of the high chair matched the rest of the furniture in the nursery exactly and the padding tied to the back and side rungs of the chair had the same hue as the dark curtains.