~I Tuck~

WordWulf By WordWulf, 20th Mar 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Family>Babies

~the oldest child in a family of eight children ~ I knew all about changing diapers ~ raised three daughters & two sons myself ~ needles & pins uh ~ time for the grand-babies ~ I laugh & roll up my sleeves ~ piece o’ cake ~ I got the new-fangled diaper ~ sticky tabs stuck ~ where the hell’s the pins ~

~I Tuck~

When my Grandson, Tristen, was a baby, just under a year old, I was asked to sit with him one night. His mom and dad were going to a Metallica concert. I sat on the couch after they left and was watching Tristen crawl around on the floor between the kitchen and living room. He seemed to be having a good time playing with his toy cars and trucks and didn’t need me to entertain him so I stuck my nose in a book I had brought with me.

A small voice called for my attention, “Papa, I tuck,” it said. There in the kitchen, his tiny hands wrapped around the horizontal braces of his highchair, sat Tristen. He repeated, “Papa, I Tuck”. I didn’t understand what he was saying, so looked about at his toys, assuming he wanted me to find his favorite truck. He began to cry and, exasperated, I increased my efforts, tossing toys left and right. “Papa, I tuck!” he howled.

“Tristen, I’m trying to find it!” I said desperately. His knuckles were white as he gripped the chrome crossbar of the chair. He looked like he was in a baby jail. That thought jarred my sensibilities and I rushed into the kitchen. I pried his fingers off the bottom of the chair and lifted it over his head, set it down, then picked him up and hugged him. “Papa, I tuck,” I said as I walked him around the room in an effort to calm him so he’d stop crying. “You were stuck under the chair and Papa thought you just couldn’t find your toy.” He pushed his hands against my chest and looked into my face like he thought I was crazy. “Down,” he said.

I put him down and he crawled back to his toy box. My arms were damp and I realized Tristen needed his diaper changed. I had dreaded this part of the deal but decided I had better face up to it. His mother wouldn’t look on me kindly if his diaper was wet when she got home. I found diapers in the bag she had left with all the things babies have need of, bibs and wipes, jars of food, his binkie, etc. The diapers came out of a package and were shaped to fit around the baby’s butt. I was watching Tristen play, holding the diaper up and trying to imagine how it would fit, comparing it to the one he was wearing.

I picked him up, laid him on the couch and had the wet diaper off lickety split. Much to my relief, there was nothing else in it but the baby. He was wet, that’s all. I felt confident and quite handy as I pulled a wipe out of the bottle and washed him off. I could handle all this new fangled gadgetry. Tristen tried to turn over and I put a hand on his belly to hold him down. He wriggled beneath it and began to fuss at me. “Lay still,” I said, holding panic in my voice back as best I could. With my free hand, I got hold the new diaper and managed to lift him up by grabbing his feet. When I did this, he flipped over, got his knees under him, slid off the couch and was off to the toy box before I could do anything about it.

Someone knocked on the door. I yelled, “Come in!” and Troy, my other daughter’s husband, entered the house. “Thought you might could use some company,” he said.

I smiled. “Sure, we’re getting along fine”.

“How come you’re holding the diaper and the baby doesn’t have one on?” Troy asked, rolling his eyes in the direction of Tristen.

“Oh, I was just changing his diaper when you showed up”.

Troy grinned. “Need some help?”

“It’d be good if I had someone to hold him down,” I admitted.

Between the two of us we managed to get Tristen back to the couch but neither of us could figure out what was the front and back of the diaper. “We gotta hurry,” I said. “He gets impatient and starts wiggling around; then he’ll cry if you don’t let him go”. As if on cue, Tristen started to do just that.

“What’s the difference, front or back?” Troy observed, holding the diaper up in the air between us. “Which was the front and back when you took the old one off?”

“I don’t remember,” I replied. “They both look the same when the diaper’s on the baby.” Tristen wailed and wiggled but Troy and I got the diaper under his butt and around him. “Where’s the pins?” Troy asked.

“The one I took off had like sticky tabs,” I said, “but this one seems different.”

“You hold him down,” Troy said. “I got some duct tape in the truck.”

Tristen was putting up quite a fit but once Troy got back with the duct tape we had him fixed up in a jiffy. The night was pretty smooth after that. Troy went home and I laid down on the couch; Tristen fell asleep on my chest. Sometime later he scared me half to death when he started screaming like a banshee. I was trying to quiet him down when his mom and dad walked in the door. Mom took him from me and asked, “Has he been crying like this all night?”

“No,” I replied. “He just started; we were laying there on the couch asleep.”

“Did he fall off the couch?” she asked. “What happened to make him cry like this?”

“Guess he knew you were coming home,” I said weakly.

“Why the duct tape?” she asked.

“I couldn’t figure out the diaper,” I admitted sheepishly.

Tristen stopped crying and pointed toward the highchair. “Papa tuck,” he said, “Papa tuck.”

Tristen’s eleven years old now. We’ve had some pretty good times, that boy and me. He gives this family reason to celebrate, along with his brother and cousins, uncles and aunts. Papa’s proud of him and looks forward to learning and growing with him. All Papa has to do is watch; Tristen will do the teaching.

~Tom (WordWulf) Sterner~
~Magick Fingers of Love~
~We Smell Good!~
~An Other~

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Comments

author avatar mountainside
22nd Mar 2011 (#)

...Great story, cute. Was he crying because he was stuck or do we know? Seemed to be a healthy little one.

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author avatar WordWulf
22nd Mar 2011 (#)

He was when he was under the highchair. Later he was asleep on my chest, probably woke up and freaked to find himself there. He was howling like a banshee when his mom and dad came in the door.

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author avatar mountainside
22nd Mar 2011 (#)

..You did a good job Grandpop, even with the duct tape. You had me laughing hysterically. Take it easy.

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author avatar Nan Joe
25th Mar 2011 (#)

This is very interesting. I can't stop smiling from the whole odeal. You did a good job though.

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author avatar WordWulf
25th Mar 2011 (#)

Thank-you. I send my kids a trivia question every day. Today was how long does it take a man to change a diaper. My daughter-in-law texted me back and asked if it had anything to do with duct tape:-)

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