I try not to talk constantly about the newest addition to our family, but sometimes there’s a story so hilarious, you have to tell it.
My older sister and brother-in-law came over for a short visit on Saturday. Once we got all our news out of the way, we headed to my brother’s house for her to bestow gifts on baby Bennett. She bought the most darling Oshkosh B’Gosh coveralls for him. When I saw them, all I could think was, “I’ve been workin’ on the railroads…” Bennett appreciated the song.
He’s such a happy baby. He’s also very damp. Every time I visit, he spits up on me no less than twice in the time I spend with him. I’d get disgusted, but every time he does it, he smiles. And really, how am I supposed to be upset about him smiling at me?
Well, my big sister got a taste of Bennett’s blessing. Not literally, of course. He cooed, he laughed, he played, and he spit up on her. I warned her to be careful he didn’t aim down her cleavage. How gross would that be?
With formula spewing all over the place, we decided we should clean him up. No biggie, right? Ha! Do you know how long it’s been since I changed baby clothes? Nearly 10 years. For my sister, it’s been even longer. Her youngest son is going to be 21 this year, so yeah…
Ever notice how babies have no bones? It took two full-grown women to change one baby out of his clothes and into a clean set. First we couldn’t get the old outfit over his head. I thought we were going to rip his nose off. Putting the new outfit on was even harder. Every time my sister would get close to him with the top to put over his head, he’d gasp and blink like she was about to suffocate him. Finally, we had to put it directly over his head and pull down. Yay! Success.
Again, babies have no bones. Trying to find his little hands to pull his arms through the sleeves of the top was like trying to dress a wet noodle. He kept slipping away from us. It didn’t help that baby Bennett likes to move his arms and legs. A lot. This little man has places to go and he can’t be bothered with clothes. By the time we got the child dressed, my sister and I were hysterical.
Tsk. It’s such a shame, really. I mean…he’s a baby for crying out loud. We should be able to dress him in no time, but that so didn’t happen. I don’t even want to hazard a guess how long it took us, but by the time we were finished, he thought we were crazy because we were both snorting and wheezing for air.
It’s a good thing he’s a good-natured baby, otherwise we would have played hell for not being more competent at dressing him.