Smiles for Boobies (A Baby's Tale)
For the past few weeks, the wife and I have been getting a bit impatient for the magical day that little Apple Rosebud McInerney (the nom de guerre of my infant daughter, for any of you readers who might be new to CTTC) would seem, well, happy to know us.
Thanks to a weekly email courtesy the infant-loving folks at babycenter.com, we learned about two weeks ago that anytime now our wittle wovable bundle of joy would likely look up at us some morning and, voila, warm the cockles (no smirking, please) of our hearts by flashing a big, gummy smile.
And so we began the wait for that anytime-now moment.
Mind you, it's not like Mrs. Chase and myself are such insecure and needy new parents that we needed that sort of affirmation from a being that doesn't even know to crawl in from out of the rain. It's just that, you know, it had been seven sleepless weeks of ooohhing and aaahhing over how cute and precious she is -- and, all the while, the baby had done absolutely nothing to acknowledge our unmitigated praise. Truth be told, the whole ignore-us-and-cry shtick had long jumped the shark. Sure, during that time the wife and I had glimpsed a number of wonderful gaping grins from ol' Apple Rosebud, but such expressions only came when she was asleep and passing gas. And let's be honest; I could visit my family if I wanted that kind of reception.
Then, about a week ago, our baby girl began to smile. Her little eyes and nose crinkled up, with her tiny chin quivering to accommodate the most innocent, angelic smile ever seen this side of the Mississippi.
But we had to look fast ... because the smile only appeared seconds before our baby went to work on mom's booby. The only thing that brought unencumbered joy to our child's face, it seemed, were boobies. Or, as the inimitable Graham Parker once termed it, the milk train.
The sight of boobies admittedly has brought many a smile to my own mug, and so I fully understood the kid's adoration of Mrs. Chase in all her breastfeeding splendor. But this nipple-induced courtesy was just too much, a slap in the face to her long-suffering parents, who continued to get the cold shoulder. Such objectification would not be tolerated.
Anyway, it all resolved peacefully this morning. Today was the anytime-now day.
Just before I left for work (yes, I do work occasionally), Apple Rosebud looked up at me and smiled. She even repeated the expression a few more times, as if to prove it had nothing to do with the emission of waste.
My baby smiled at me. And, yes, it was as incredible as I hoped it would be.