Thursday, December 3, 2009

The Midnight Performance

            It was almost midnight and Celia had terrible gas. She was crying as we patted and rubbed her belly, then pumped her legs to get it out. A couple of farts later, it was still bugging her. Michelle took her up to try to breastfeed her to serenity as I did a little bit of office work.
            By the time I went upstairs, Celia was still wailing. I started singing a little ditty and Michelle said, “Don’t bother. She’s just in pain. It won’t work.”
            I looked at her, then at the crying kid in her arms, and began dancing around as I sang, “Would you like to swing on a star? Carry moonbeams home in a jar? Or be better off than you are…? Or would you like to be a mule?”
            Celia calmed down and watched me with fascination. I danced, gyrated and gestured with all my energy. It was the performance of my life. When the song ended she began to cry again, so I started up with another, and then another. By the third song she was starting to doze off and I was sweating. I ended quietly and left the room to let Michelle put the baby to sleep.
            Later, I nudged Michelle with a wink. “Don’t bother, eh?”
            She smiled.
            It’s funny what kids will get you to do. Not that I thought I’d never sing and dance for someone, but at midnight? Upstairs? In my pajamas? To a crying baby? Nope. Hadn’t thought that one up till I was right smack in the middle of it.

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