The Bathtub Dilemma
And they certainly are the absolute worst place to bathe a squirming baby.
A few months ago, giving a Maisie a bath was a treat. I'd take my forearm-sized child into the bath with me where she'd lie on my thighs and giggle as I used the measuring cup to rinse off her hair. She was always too small and too flimsy for those baby basins and our sinks would never do (see exhibits 1 and 2 below), so a mommy-daughter bath was a delightful necessity.
As soon as she was able to sit on her own, I once again tried the basin, as the soaking tub was still too deep to reasonably help her wash. But I hated the idea of not being able to drain it easily, given her penchance for pooping in the tub. So I am currently resigned to taking the plunge and bathing with my rapidly-growing little girl, even given the risk just stated above.
Why blog about this, you might ask? Firstly, to get some advice from my fellow moms who might have some suggestions on how to overcome this (small) challenge. And secondly, because I couldn't help but see the similarities between a beautiful, but perhaps too niche, household amenity, and app development. We can create a beautiful app, with a well-designed user interface and creative animation, that is geared toward too narrow an audience. In fact, Jason and I have several ideas that would be incredibly useful to us, and perhaps only us. They could be soaking tubs.
However, soaking tubs still have a significant following and there are certain advantages to creating a "soaking tub" product. Advertisers love a defined audience. It's often easier to market to a segment. Plus, appealing to a targeted audience that has a large, disposible income can yield nice results. Just ask Bugatti. It comes down to learning more about those who would buy the "tub" and confirming that the physical appeal of the product entices consumers in a way that a very useful, but not necessarily pretty, app would not.
As we continue to explore our figurative soaking tubs, we hope that our literal one can finally show its worth. When it's time, we'll line it with candles, put away the rubber duckies, and hope those looking at the apartment don't have any children.