This weekend?
Food. Explosions. Beer. Buried car parts. Someone from the past asking to have his/her name removed from the website. Nothing too exciting.
Instead, let’s talk about the baby. The ultra-cute, painfully adorable baby who is quickly growing up into an intelligent, and strangely dangerous, toddler.
For example, the other day when she was given her breakfast she belted out, “Thank you!” And she hasn’t stopped. She’s saying please and thank you better than any other kid I’ve ever met. Suddenly so polite.
I suspect it’s a cover for some nefarious plot. It could be. Who knows? The space aliens talk to her in her sleep.
She made an important discovery last week that may have deep ramifications for the rest of her life.
We were outside in the afternoon waiting for Mom and sister to return from the doctor. It was hot. Like Africa hot. Birds were falling out of the sky from heat exhaustion. Our neighbor’s pool had evaporated and the squirrels were shaving themselves and taking to wearing Bermuda shorts.
So we started throwing ice out on the driveway to watch it melt. It’s fascinating you know. It’s science in action. Like education, only fun.
Well, Gertrude wanted to save the ice from its screaming, melting death. So, she ran out into the driveway to save the dihydrogenoxcide from changing from a solid to liquid and eventually to a gas. “I must stop the evaporation,” she cried.
While standing on the driveway she noticed she wasn’t alone. Right in front of her was another baby. A dark baby, with no face. No discernible features to speak of. But where ever Gertrude stepped, this dark baby would follow. As if this dark baby were attached to her feet.
She started backing away slowly, lest this dark spawn of an evil universe attacked. When she got back to the porch, the dark baby was gone. I laughed and explained that it was her shadow.
“Shadow!” she yelled. But she didn’t seem to believe my explanation. But, from the porch it looked like shadow baby had retreated to its home world, never to bother Gertrude again. Or so she thought.
The driveway seemed safe. So she returned to her task of saving the ice from death. But that damn baby was back. She looked down and saw Shadow Baby attached to her feet again, like an alien trying to leech her life-force, and she screamed, jumped into the air and flew across the space that separated us like she had been shot in the ass by 10,000 volts. She didn’t want to be on the driveway anymore. She didn’t want to be outside anymore. It wasn’t safe. The soul-sucking shadow baby was there.
So we went inside to get a drink of lemonade. When I turned on the kitchen light, there was Shadow Baby again. She’s like a vampire that never leaves. She’s stealthy, sneaky. You never know where she’ll show up next. Again, Gertrude leapt through the air.
We gave up on lemonade. Clearly any lemonade that was in the vicinity of Shadow Baby was not safe. That damn shadow probably poisoned it with shadow juice.
Her mothering instincts inflamed by the encounter with Shadow Baby, she headed off to her room to get one of her babies. When she turned on the light, she screamed and ran. Shadow Baby was there too.
She’s still afraid of Shadow Baby. But she’s beginning to accept her presence. Gertrude doesn’t respond with anger or fear anymore. Just suspicion.
Because she knows that damn baby will suck out her soul. She just knows it.
Discuss
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