Baby woke up from a nap so I go pick him up, carry him through the living room, and turn on the TV on the way to the kitchen to fix him a bottle. Evidently, the movie Ice Age was playing on Disney. As Im one-handedly trying to pour a giant gallon of milk into a tiny bottle while balancing a restless 27 pound toddler on my hip, the baby in the movie starts to cry. Now, our baby Mike is a sympathy crier - big time. So when the baby on the TV starts to cry (and doesnt stop crying while the scary tiger plays peek-a-boo with him), my baby starts to wail. This makes it harder to pour the milk. TV baby cries, real baby wails, I mutter curse words. Franklin is in the office looking at Facebook. Without getting up to come help, he hollers whats going on in there?? I holler back, Dammit, Im trying to screw a nipple on a bottle with one hand while the baby screams in my ear! He says, Well turn off the damn TV, you know hes a sympathy crier! I stop and take a deep, dont-kill-anybody breath. I politely ask him to get off his lazy ass and go in the living room to shut the TV baby up. Finally get the bottle put together, walk in the living room while Franklin is standing there with the remote, looking triumphant as he changes the channel. He asks, What would you do without me?
Posted on: Thu, 05 Jun 2014 20:29:04 +0000
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