Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Red wine and baby diapers

(clearly his intention is to grow)

I just baby-sat my child. What a nightmare, truly. It all started out fun and awkward, fumbling with his dinner, not really knowing how to do things. But then he got tired.... He started to seem unhappy for no reason in particular, fidgety with dissatisfaction  Then he began to express that annoyance in a continuous sort of baby-crying. No tears, just whining. It's no wonder to me now why people can't stand people that whine. Effective: yes, Annoying: hell yes. To hear an adult whine is an acute sensation. It makes me want to rub a full baby diaper in their face.

Towards the end of my stint as a nanny tonight I was really making deals with the devil. I was thinking of any way that I could possibly get out of the unceasing misery that my life had become when steered by the emotions of a drowsy child. I was going to call a babysitter for the last 15 minutes until Rachel got home. Drop him off at the fire station. Anything. I imagined biblical scenes, him in a basket floating down a river, to go on to greatness in some other life, some other city. 

I even tried to leave him alone, went downstairs and prayed for the first time in years. Didn't work. A baby's wailing can penetrate the stars. You can still hear the baby Superman's infant howl from planet Krypton. The universal hum of cosmic background radiation is actually just an amalgam of babies grousing, but from very great distances, in all directions. 

Well, he eventually stopped, then he got tired. Then Rachel came home and scolded me for trying to put him to bed too soon. 

I'm downstairs now, whining to you about it.