Q & A #15
by Colleen Hillerup
Meredith heard noises in her room and peeked around the door. "Hi, Uncle Giles. Whatcha doing?"
The baby lay on top of Meredith's dresser. "Changing Nigel. Would you like to help?"
"Okay." She stood on tip toes to watch the procedure. "Ooh," she exclaimed. "He's stinky."
"I would have to agree with you there." He lay one hand on the baby's tummy, then reached for the bag on the bed. "Meredith, I seem to have miscalculated. Could you please take the plastic container from the diaper bag and hand it to me? No, not that one. No, the other one."
"There's lots of stuff in here." She pulled out the package of baby wipes.
"That's the one. Could you hand it to me, please?" He reached out and took it.
She looked quizzically at the child. "What's that?" she pointed.
"That, ah ..." It was a frustrating position to be in when one had an overwhelming desire to clean one's glasses. "That means Nigel is a boy."
"Okay." At that moment the baby chose to do his impression of the fountain of youth, and Giles groped for the clean diaper on the dresser top, in an attempt to catch the flow. Meredith was overcome with giggles.
"Sweet child, if you're through laughing, could you get another nappy for me from the bag?"
"Okay." She handed him the diaper, grinning. "Boys are funny."
Giles finished cleaning, powdering and diapering the baby, laid him carefully in the middle of the bed, and proceeded to clean himself off with a baby wipe.
"He peed on you."
"Yes, Meredith. I'm rather aware of that."
The little girl was overcome by a fresh wave of giggles.
"I'm glad you're amused." He sat beside the baby, rubbing his tummy gently. "You know, Meredith, you really are your mother's daughter." He smiled down at his son, then looked back at the still laughing child. "And your father's."
by Colleen Hillerup
Meredith heard noises in her room and peeked around the door. "Hi, Uncle Giles. Whatcha doing?"
The baby lay on top of Meredith's dresser. "Changing Nigel. Would you like to help?"
"Okay." She stood on tip toes to watch the procedure. "Ooh," she exclaimed. "He's stinky."
"I would have to agree with you there." He lay one hand on the baby's tummy, then reached for the bag on the bed. "Meredith, I seem to have miscalculated. Could you please take the plastic container from the diaper bag and hand it to me? No, not that one. No, the other one."
"There's lots of stuff in here." She pulled out the package of baby wipes.
"That's the one. Could you hand it to me, please?" He reached out and took it.
She looked quizzically at the child. "What's that?" she pointed.
"That, ah ..." It was a frustrating position to be in when one had an overwhelming desire to clean one's glasses. "That means Nigel is a boy."
"Okay." At that moment the baby chose to do his impression of the fountain of youth, and Giles groped for the clean diaper on the dresser top, in an attempt to catch the flow. Meredith was overcome with giggles.
"Sweet child, if you're through laughing, could you get another nappy for me from the bag?"
"Okay." She handed him the diaper, grinning. "Boys are funny."
Giles finished cleaning, powdering and diapering the baby, laid him carefully in the middle of the bed, and proceeded to clean himself off with a baby wipe.
"He peed on you."
"Yes, Meredith. I'm rather aware of that."
The little girl was overcome by a fresh wave of giggles.
"I'm glad you're amused." He sat beside the baby, rubbing his tummy gently. "You know, Meredith, you really are your mother's daughter." He smiled down at his son, then looked back at the still laughing child. "And your father's."