That NEW Adage

A pressure-relief valve about God, and just about everything else.

Two Bears and a Cub


The Parents were both sleeping soundly when out of the silence, a horrified — and horrifying — cry shot like lightning through the dying darkness. The Mother immediately leapt into action, while the Father lay there not moving, thinking he was dreaming and praying it was not the Baby.

The Mother returned to the bed with the Baby in her arms. The Baby, wide awake now, and smiling, was unconcerned with the fact that the Father had only just two hours ago gone to sleep, and had to get right back up in two more small hours.

The Baby was talking to the Mother in a cute, nineteen-month-old kind of way and the Mother, unaware that the Father could hear it all, whispered back to him in an effort to soothe and drowse him.

“O-Mommee!” he said, as though he just realized she was there.

“Go to sleep, Baby.”

“Ohh Kayyy,” he whispered, resigned. This went on for minutes, as it does when he has a nightmare and the Parents go get him to put him back to sleep.

The Father was desperately trying to hold on to the greasy rope of sleep that slid, ever more rapidly through the fingers of his mind. His head was facing away from the Action and towards the clock, whose ten-foot-tall numbers screeched in neon, “5:38 am.”

“Well,” said the Father to himself, “Almost two hours… That’s a LOT of time left to sleep.” As though he would drop to sleep that very moment. The thing about sleep, though, is that you don’t get to experience all that good time when you are asleep. You go to sleep, and the next second, the alarm goes off. It doesn’t FEEL like eight or ten hours just went by.

In the waning darkness, the Baby realized that the Father was right there. “O-Daddee!” he said, elated.

Something that felt like a little Baby arm smacked the Father on the back of the neck.

“Don’t hit the Daddy, Baby. He has to get up in a little while.” It was a little Baby arm, then.

“Ohh Kayyy.”

They went back to their back-and-forth.

“5:47 AM!”

“I know, “ the Father retorted sharply, on the inside.

Something that felt like little Baby fingers began to wrestle through the tangle that is Sleeping Black Father Hair. “Aaa Da-Dee!”

“Leave your daddy alone, Baby,” said the Mother in a vain effort to forestall the inevitable. “You suuure love your daddy, don’t you?” she whispered rhetorically, as much to the air as to the Baby. The Father heard this and thanked God for giving him stewardship of a son who thought absolutely the world of someone so unworthy as he.

The Father, like the rolling of a tidal wave, at the rising of some leviathan, gave up on sleep and turned over and took in his arms this thirty-five pound wriggling onesie full of all that the Parents hold dear. “Come on, Baby. Time to go to sleep.”

Ohh Kayy!” smiling.

The Father began what was known as “The Kansas City Shake” which no baby could resist.

“Go to sleeping, Baby,” he said, in a lilting,  nonspecific, somewhat French, somewhat German accent.

His eyes soon began to slide closed. The Baby’s eyes did, as well.

In the bluing light of the morning, something like a little Baby arm reached up and lay on the Father’s neck. The Father looked and noticed that it was, in fact, a little Baby arm. And the Baby was asleep.

“6:24 AM!”

“Da-Dee…”
 

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March 3, 2008 - Posted by | Childhood, Christian Life, Christianity, Family, Fatherhood, Fathers and Sons, God, Kids, Parenthood, Parenting, Parents

10 Comments »

  1. This is not very comforting to a father of a 12 month-old. But I had little arms before so I guess turnabout is fair play. Ain’t God funny sometimes.

    Comment by ricktrotter | March 3, 2008 | Reply

  2. The irony of this story is that even though the mother lovingly goes to comfort the child that was crying out for her, it is in fact his DAAAADDDDEEEE that he wants! It blows my mind that I am the only one that “matters” to Jaxon (even catching my eye clear across the room if someone else is holding him), but when his DAAAADDDDEEEE is around I am invisible! Mind boggling…

    Comment by heatherltrotter | March 4, 2008 | Reply

  3. Thanks, guys! Hey! Do you two know each other? or is the last name a coincidence?

    Comment by maxdaddy | March 4, 2008 | Reply

  4. Complete coincidence. Never heard of the man…

    Comment by heatherltrotter | March 4, 2008 | Reply

  5. Derrik, I’ve been hearing about your Blog..After reading Heather’s blog (good reading too!) I found the link to yours. I’m addicted to your blog… I don’t have time for this… But I can’t go to bed.. I can’t stop reading.. It’s midnight on a weeknight for goodness sake! Okay, I’ve got to read a few more and I’m shutting down this computer!! Heather, you started this!!!

    Comment by Kim Davis | March 4, 2008 | Reply

  6. HEY,KIM! Thanks! Go to bed… Wait! Read one more… No. Go to bed! 🙂

    Comment by maxdaddy | March 5, 2008 | Reply

  7. Don’t blame me Kim! Blame Derrick…

    Comment by heatherltrotter | March 5, 2008 | Reply

  8. What a sweet story!! #4 came upstairs to wake me up this morning with a fist-ful of ‘bagel and schmear.’ (Reference?? Anyone??) I did manage to talk him into leaving it on the nightstand before he crawled into the bed with me. good times … good times …

    Comment by WendyLou | March 5, 2008 | Reply

  9. HEYYYYY, Wendy!!!

    Comment by maxdaddy | March 6, 2008 | Reply

  10. I taught my children early to bring their blanket and pillow and make a bed on the floor. I don’t like small arms on my neck or in my eye, or small feet up my butt. (Bad mommy?)

    Yeah… Many are the times that I would get drowsy and nod off and pray, “Lord, pleeeeze don’t let dis boy hit me in the eyeball wit that bottle while I’m sleep!” Unanswered prayer…

    Comment by Tracie | March 9, 2008 | Reply


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