I was cleaning out the clutter in my email account recently, and ran across an email that I sent out more than four years ago. It brought a smile to my face, and I decided that my little trip down memory lane needed to be posted here, where it is most appropriate!
"Date: Wed, 21 Apr 2004 19:28:30 GMT
This morning, after making the drive into work, I realized that
I'd forgotten my two-way radio. Not being able to work without it,
I turned around and drove home, getting there just in time for
Jonathan's morning cereal feeding. I found Austin and Jonathan,
both still in sleeping clothes, sitting in the recliner, busily
shoveling down the cereal.
"You don't use a bib?" I asked Austin.
"We don't need a bib. That's just something you got off of T.V."
Austin replied.
"Hmmmmmm," I said, as one of Jonathan's hands grabbed the cereal
filled spoon, splattering it across his arm.
"I always use a bib," I told Austin.
"You always make a mess. We don't." Cereal now runs down the
side of Jonathan's face, and a bit is in his hair.
"You want me to get you a cloth?" I asked, watching Jonathan's
messy little mouth suck on his own hand.
To which Austin replied, "He's only doing this because you're
here."
"I'll get the cloth," I said, getting up and going into the
nursery to retrieve a burp cloth. As I return and sit down,
Jonathan hits the spoon again, and a large lump lands on the end of
his nose. I wipe it off.
Jonathan's cereal covered hands brush against Austin's arm, but
nothing is said. He finishes the bowl and Austin gives him the
bottle that's leftover from making the cereal. Towards the end of
the bottle, I commented, "He probably needs to burp."
"I usually wait until we're finished," says Austin, but
nevertheless puts him on his shoulder and begins to pat his back.
"BUUURRRRRPPPPP." It's loud and sounds dangerous, and Austin
turns his head away just in time. "BLLLAAAAAAHHH." Spitup goes
everywhere, pooling in the space at the bottom of Austin's neck and
running down towards his belly button. His shirt is soaked. I pick
up the cloth and wipe Jonathan's face, murmuring "poor baby", then
wipe Austin's neck.
Austin hands Jonathan to me, but only after I've picked up a
blanket and put it over my shoulder to protect myself from spitup
and Jonathan from sharp objects on my uniform. Austin goes into the
bedroom to get cleaned up and changed. I wonder if he hears me
giggling.
And softly I ask no one in particular, "Need that bib now?"