"Hannah," I called yesterday while trying to make dinner, "will you come talk to Elijah? I just need you to keep him happy for five minutes for me."
"Awww, I'm tired of keeping him happy," Hannah grumbled as she slumped to her baby brother. She scowled at him as his cries diminished. He was clearly glad for the attention. "Elijah, I'm going to tell you a story," she said with an air of annoyance in her voice. Elijah munched on his slobber-soaked fingers and stared into her face contentedly as she bounced his bouncy seat and continued.
"This is a story about a family with a new baby. He was a lot of work. This baby would cry for no reason. He kept screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming. No one knew what to do with him. They were all very sad. It was too much screaming, just too much. He screamed for 100 years! He cried and cried until he cried his head off, and when his head was off, of course he died."
Then Hannah turned and walked away without any further word, and I had to laugh. Hannah adores Elijah, she couldn't be any more in love with him, but I guess we all have days when we've just had enough of fussing babies. I don't think her story had much of an effect on her audience, but at least she felt better airing her feelings. I can relate to that.