THERE IS A BABY IN THE HOUSE WITH ME
Friday, 29 January 2010And we are alone. Until his mom and my wife get back from the gym.
He has an ENORMOUS HEAD.
I am saying things he could not possibly respond to, like, “So did you catch the State of the Union?” even though this is not that funny when you are alone, just in case my life turns out to secretly be a sitcom or a comedy movie some people somewhere else are watching.
5:21 pm: Probably ought to have waited to break out the loud electric guitar toy, my sanity is telling me.
5:29 pm: I feel like we should be talking more. Or at least like I shouldn’t be watching Saw.
5:36 pm: Turned on the TV and the news was on. They were talking to the American public in exactly the same tone I’ve been using for the last half hour.
5:43 pm: Babyhood seems to consist mostly of grabbing for things you can’t reach or that people won’t let you reach. Ha! Welcome to life, friend.
Well, did he [watch the State of the Union]? He’ll be able to vote in a few years, you know. Now’s the time to be sure he’s on track.
@Nadja: He seems to be mostly concerned with scooting right now, but I’m sure he’ll get back to me.
The head is where babies store their murderous schemes. You should probably get a shunt, or something, some kind of tube? You can stick it in his ear and drain the evil thoughts out. If you don’t do it now, he’s going to try and bite your face while you sleep.
@braak: The coffee table served as a viable shunt substitute by being just high enough for him to bang his head on, prompting him to look up at me with that eternal small-child question in his eyes: “Did that hurt enough that I should start crying now?”