Thug Life
Henry wakes up in his poop diaper and rolls over out of the covers, the nightlight glow upon his face. Pretty soon he pulls himself up the slats of his crib and looks around with his sleepy eyes.
Pop.
He lays a little left jab on Piglet’s cheek, and Piglet flips this way and that, the whole mobile shaking along with him.
One left jab and Piglet and Winnie and Tigger, and the sad donkey, I forget his name, but one shot from my boy and they’re all running for cover.
Strong kid, huh?
The kid just woke up from a nap and already the whole neighborhood’s running for cover. Impressive, son. Nice one.
Henry throws another few jabs and gets bored with it and he lets out one of his throaty cries to let Mom or Dad know that: Hey, this poop diaper ain’t changing itself in here youse guys.
Pretty soon, I come in and flip on the switch and we are both soaked in light bulb light and I tell him, Hey whassup, Killer! and he closes his eyes because it’s so bright all of the sudden and he bounces up and down on his mattress because he’s happy that he is getting out of that cage pronto, Tonto.
I swap diapers for the little guy and hold him in my arms and we descend down the big Victorian Death Steps, so slippery with their shiny stain, from so many years of people buffing them with their sock-y feet and their brogans and their work boots and their church shoes. We move slow because I am in socks and I know what can happen.
It sucks. Still. I live in two worlds with these kids; what’s happening/what can happen. What are you gonna do?
Down in the kitchen I let Henry down on the boards and man he is fast. Thump-thump-thump-thump, like I imagine a baby rhinoceros would tear across this floor if you bothered to bring one here to rural Pennsylvania and dropped him off at our place.
I watch his tiny butt motoring across the pine where he disappears into the playroom we set up for the kids. There, alone in the sea spray coming off a pirate ship cutting across the 20-inch screen: she listens as the rapid thumps get closer.
Her eyes dart around the room/take stuff in: giant Mickey Mouse/plastic brontosaurus/Pete The Cat book/ 63 crayons; it’s a pickle, there isn’t much time: what does she save, what does she protect?
ThumpThumpThumpThumpTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP, the baby rhino rounds the corner, blows through the door jamb, his head down, eyes closed, just choogling along into the place where the plastic pears fall ripe upon the purplish carpet of thread that comes unraveled; the excellent land where cool and waxy trinkets coated in thick dog hair feel awesome pushed up against the big pain of tiny teeth getting born.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMP, she hears him roaring into her station and the dams burst down inside her little soul.
He heads straight for something she has always known: a two dollar plastic colorful necklace that you couldn’t bite through with a shark’s jaw. We bought it for her when she was his age/ it has lived in all five houses with us so far.
He doesn’t look up, which, I guess if for the best.
He just baby rhinos across the floor toward the necklace, I don’t even know how he knows it’s there.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP.
Right past her standing there watching him; she’s blown away by his gumption, by his arrogant impetuous charge. His nerve rattles her to her tiny core.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP.
BAM.
She flips him over on his side, watching him land, his wheels still spinning, like an outlaw on a high mesa watching the dynamite tip the train.
I hear him go down. I hear the quiet/the cartoon hanging in the air/and then the tears.
This ain’t the first time a baby rhino has had his ass handed to him first thing in the morning.
This had me giggling through a migraine which is almost impossible. Cannot WAIT for your book. Love that you and your beautiful wife are writing again.
I could see this happening as I read. Poor Henry.
mama, so sorry about your loss of house and home. I have a new nephew Henry and my Max thinks he makes the sun rise.
Anyway, I could n’t find a way to post on your last post:: i love bobbi brown undereye concealer and stila one step bronzer. Also, physicians formula has a fabulous blush that’s shaped in hearts inside a pink case. Loreal infalliable foundation is excellent – not too matte, still looks like your natural skin tone. and sally hansen lip infusion is good for gloss. i love the bobbi brown shimmer brick in beige ( i have the same skin tone as you) for eyes — but if you don’t want to spend a bunch, nyx has great eyeshadows. champagne is great and there are a couple along that color line that will work great on you.
I’m so glad the firepeople servered you well, and i’m so sorry you had to say goodbye to so many things. My DH is a police officer here and fires are the hardest part. You have handled this with grace and loveliness Monica, and you have a beautiful family. You should be proud of you and yours. Much love.
Better start telling her what I use to tell my oldest….one day he will be big enough to fight back & you’ll be sorry!! It makes you wonder how 2nd babies survive their toddler siblings!!
this happens in my house everyday so the whole time i was reading this im laughing while my baby “rhino” (a 17 mo old little girl) screams everytime i laugh out loud. this is just funny. poor little guy tho! my girls fight way to much and over things just like this!! i feel bad for the little girl to! my daughter runs to hide things before i get lilly out of her bed!
My 2nd born had an interesting way of leveling the playing field when it came to physical competition. My oldest son was toilet training (for months and months, it seemed) and was therefore often naked below the waist. Baby bro found a nice little handle on which to grab to stop the action quickly … lol
I have a 4yr old boy and a 2 year old daughter and the 2 YEAR OLD does things like this to her older brother… We always say she will be the one protecting him when they get older and how embarrassing that is going to be for him. But right now? We laugh… as all us good parents do…
My eldest worships his baby sister, but now she can toddle into his room, the novelty has worn off a bit as she heads straight for his Legos. But the demand that we get her out of his room is a lot less anger driven than when his 4 yr old sister shows up unwanted. It’s going to be so much fun for you to watch Henry and Violet grow as siblings.
Have you ever had to write something to someone who proofreads for a living? You know how fretful you can get – worrying about grammar, punctuation, tense and all that stuff you were supposed to memorized back in 3rd grade but didn’t? Will you live up to their standards? Are they going to think you are an idiot? How many errors will be in it that you won’t notice until it’s too late?
That’s exactly how I feel commenting on your writings Serge!
Once again a beautiful post. Once again, an inadequate comment!
This is great and I really enjoyed it. However, do you mind identifying Serge’s pieces (they use to go under the Thunder Pie banner) and if they are for Babble. You are both talented writers but I don’t like when your writings are combined to o e big persona. You both have individual voices that are great.