Monday, May 02, 2005

A Rare Treat

Not everything I write is dark and disturbing. Readers of Noise in the Attic may get the wrong impression on the kind of person I am, because that seems to be my way of thought. Surprise! Just like every other human, I'm more complicated than that. To prove it, here's a little vignette I wrote a while back. Enjoy.




Baby Blues
By Carter Nipper

So here I am at 2am trying to plug a nipple into a slobbery little squirm with a diaper on one end and a siren on the other. How long has it been since either one of us actually slept? Seems like years. Sometimes I wonder what ever possessed me to have a baby.

How can Bill sleep with this fire drill going on? He didn't even roll over. Sleeping like a baby. Who thought that one up? Must have been a man. I can't blame him too much, though. Some things a man just can't do, and he does help when he can. He did help when we were making this little critter. I guess he's good for something.

OK, that's better. Just like a man, when he hollers, give him a tit and he shuts right up. Listen to him slurping like a greedy little Dust Buster. His head smells good.

He's finished; time for a burp. Come on, come on. I know there's one in there someplace. Good grief! How can something so small make a noise so big? That one'd make his Daddy proud!

Got him filled up just in time to change his diaper. Stuff goes through him like he's hollow. It's a wonder he gets any nourishment at all. Maybe we could just get a tube and connect his two ends together. Save everybody a lot of trouble.

I'll just sit for a while and rock. Look at those little fingers. They're so small, but so perfect, and those blue eyes, the way they almost cross when he tries to focus on something. When he smiles like that, it makes all the noise and trouble worthwhile.

He's asleep. I'll just sit here for a few more minutes. He feels so good in my arms, fits like he was made for them. Maybe he was.

It's so quiet. I can hear Granny's clock ticking in the living room, and this old rocking chair has just the right amount of creak in it.

Oh, well. I better put him down and try to get some sleep. He'll go off again in a couple of hours. I can't wait for him to grow up. I take that back! I take that back! God, what am I saying? I don't want him to ever grow up!

I just wish he would let me sleep sometimes.

END

2 Comments:

At 9:44 AM, Blogger Demented M said...

Awwww, how cute :)

Nice humor--you're been holding out your horror vixen you.

M

 
At 2:12 PM, Blogger Carter said...

Does a horror vixen outrank a horror whore? These things always confuse me. :-)

 

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