Smooth operator in a bottle, I soothe sun's fiery kiss, and whisper comfort to parched skin, leaving a silky trace behind.

I arrive once a minute, Twice in a moment, But never in a thousand years. What am I?,

Jump for me so happily, Change my first to B and I stand to pee. A pink haired healer who is Brock’s bride to be, Pure ecstatic emotion, held in letters of three.

I’m not instant, but I am intentional. I describe progress, not completion. I can be physical or personal.

Every parent wishes to see this when they open their kid's bedroom door But say me without a pause and it's a cause for serious concern