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| Cute. AND can see in the dark! |
My Baby Sister was the cutest little
girl ever!
Really.
She still is
Cute, I mean.
But that's another story . . .
Baby Sister gave a whole new meaning to
the word active.
She was born when our mother was
nearing forty and slowing down.
Which gave a whole new meaning to the
word ironic.
Mom would carry on with her usual daily
chores.
And just let Baby Sister run laps
around her.
And I do mean laps.
Mom would wash the dishes.
Baby Sister would run laps through the
kitchen/dining/living/bed rooms.
And the hall.
Mom would do laundry.
Baby Sister would run laps through the
kitchen/dining/living/bed rooms.
And the hall.
Mom would tidy the bedrooms.
Baby sister would run laps through the
. . . you get the idea.
'Busy' would have described her very
well.
As would 'independent'.
And that's where this story starts . .
.
In the spring calving season, as the
community's only vet, Dad hardly saw his bed.
Cows usually waited until the middle of
the night before getting down to business.
Like many women.
Myself included.
Maybe it's a female thing.
Anyways . . .
The wee hours of the morning usually
found him creeping through the house as quietly as possible, heading
for his much-anticipated bed.
In complete darkness.
He passed the closed door to the
youngest childrens' room and made the turn towards his own.
Then he heard something.
What was that?
He paused and glanced back at the
closed door.
Had he just heard a noise from in
there?
He looked down where the door skimmed
the linoleum.
No light.
Another noise.
Okay. That was a 'thump'.
He moved closer and put an ear to the
door.
Definite sounds emanating from within.
He could hear more thumping.
Then a small grunt.
He turned the knob and silently swung
the door inwards.
Now I have to paint the picture for
you.
The house is in complete darkness.
The only lights on a ranch this far
from town come from natural sources.
ie. Moon. Stars.
Or from the mercury vapour lamps which
light the feedlots and barnyard.
Neither effectively illuminated the
scene before him.
Unrelieved, ebony blackness was all he
could see.
But the noises continued.
There was nothing for it.
He would have to turn on a light.
Taking a quick breath, he flipped the
light switch.
The room sprang into view.
Double bed, with two sleeping children
in the far corner.
Crib, empty, directly ahead.
Wait.
Shouldn't there be a baby in there?
He looked down.
The noises he had heard were explained.
The not-yet-two-year-old 'Baby' had wet her
training-pants.
Crawling out of the crib, she had found
some clean ones and, seated in the center of the rug, was trying to
effect changes.
All in near-perfect darkness.
I don't know about you, but I think
toilet-training was moot at this point.
Although some sort of
'I-can-see-in-the-dark' career could have definitely been considered.
Maybe vampire-ism.
The little girl looked him and stood up.
Finished pulling up her pants.
Then crawled back into her crib.
Abandoning her used pants in a little
heap in the middle of the carpet.
Dad just stared.
Then, grabbing said pants, he threw them into the clothes basket and turned out the light.
And made his way to his own bed.
Relaxing beside his sleeping wife, he
stared up into the darkness.
What else went on in the dark?
Maybe he didn't want to know.
