Q & A #12
by Colleen Hillerup
The door was open a crack, so Meredith pushed it wider. "Hi, Auntie Anya," she said to the woman sitting on the bed.
"Hi Meredith."
"Can I play with Nigel?" She walked towards her parents' friend, trying to get a closer look at the baby.
"Not right now. He's eating."
Meredith looked at Anya's hands holding the infant. "Where's his bottle?"
"He doesn't use a bottle."
"Thank you Meredith, but he doesn't have a sippy cup." She held up her hand and presented the object in question. "Does he want to borrow mine?"
"He's too little for that. He gets his milk from me. From my body." Anya pushed her little finger into the corner of the baby's mouth, to break the suction, and sat him in her lap, her hand holding him under his chin. With her other hand, she rubbed his little back.
Meredith's eyes widened as she saw little drops of white liquid seep from Anya's exposed breast. "Are you a cow?"
"I most certainly am not. I may have been a vengeance demon, twice, but I was never a cow." Nigel gave a satisfying burp, and Anya wiped his mouth with the corner of his receiving blanket. "Hasn't your mother told you how babies are fed? Or don't you watch it on television?"
Meredith blinked. "I just know bottles."
"Well then, pretend I have bottles." She lay the baby on the bed beside her, as she adjusted herself and prepared to nurse on the other side. "Two very adequate bottles."
"Can he talk?"
"No, he can't." She picked him up and held him to her breast as he latched on. "He's a baby. Baby's don't talk."
"He talks to me. He says he loves you."
Anya smiled, her 'I'd pat you on the head patronizingly but my hands are full' smile. "That's very sweet, Meredith. You tell him I love him too."
"Okay." Meredith stared at the baby. "He says he's glad." She headed for the door, but stopped and turned around. "And change his diaper." She disappeared into the hallway.
Anya shook her head. "Kids."
by Colleen Hillerup
The door was open a crack, so Meredith pushed it wider. "Hi, Auntie Anya," she said to the woman sitting on the bed.
"Hi Meredith."
"Can I play with Nigel?" She walked towards her parents' friend, trying to get a closer look at the baby.
"Not right now. He's eating."
Meredith looked at Anya's hands holding the infant. "Where's his bottle?"
"He doesn't use a bottle."
"Thank you Meredith, but he doesn't have a sippy cup." She held up her hand and presented the object in question. "Does he want to borrow mine?"
"He's too little for that. He gets his milk from me. From my body." Anya pushed her little finger into the corner of the baby's mouth, to break the suction, and sat him in her lap, her hand holding him under his chin. With her other hand, she rubbed his little back.
Meredith's eyes widened as she saw little drops of white liquid seep from Anya's exposed breast. "Are you a cow?"
"I most certainly am not. I may have been a vengeance demon, twice, but I was never a cow." Nigel gave a satisfying burp, and Anya wiped his mouth with the corner of his receiving blanket. "Hasn't your mother told you how babies are fed? Or don't you watch it on television?"
Meredith blinked. "I just know bottles."
"Well then, pretend I have bottles." She lay the baby on the bed beside her, as she adjusted herself and prepared to nurse on the other side. "Two very adequate bottles."
"Can he talk?"
"No, he can't." She picked him up and held him to her breast as he latched on. "He's a baby. Baby's don't talk."
"He talks to me. He says he loves you."
Anya smiled, her 'I'd pat you on the head patronizingly but my hands are full' smile. "That's very sweet, Meredith. You tell him I love him too."
"Okay." Meredith stared at the baby. "He says he's glad." She headed for the door, but stopped and turned around. "And change his diaper." She disappeared into the hallway.
Anya shook her head. "Kids."