Good thing the baby can’t talk
Leada Gore, Editor
There’s a famous story in my family of the time when my nephew was introduced to the world of caffeine.
My mother was keeping Isaac when he, allegedly, was given “at most, a small sip” of Pepsi. I said allegedly because my mother still denies she is the one who gave him this. Of course, she is also the one who said the “at most, a small sip” part, so her testimony is more than a little suspect.
Everything was fine until his parents arrived to pick him up at my mother’s house. Isaac, who was just learning to talk, looked up at his bottle and pronounced he wanted “Pepi.”
It seems Mom had forgotten that since Isaac had learned to talk, he could now tell on her. Not that she gave him the soda, of course. But, if she had or wanted to in the future, she now knew she had to be careful, or at least teach him the meaning of the words “our little secret.”
Fast forward a decade. This time, my mom is keeping Sutton at our house while we are out of town. She is joined by Greg’s mom, who was also staying at our house.
Two grandmothers. One baby. The spoiling opportunities are limitless.
I had left a list of directions, including what and when Sutton liked to eat. Her diet consists mainly of formula and various forms of pureed food that doesn’t really look like food at all. I didn’t provide a list of two many dos and don’ts, figuring these two women have raised a collective six children and could surely handle a lone small one. And they did. Sutton enjoyed her grandmother time, so much so that she decided to finally crawl in front of them and while we were out of town.
We arrived home on Saturday afternoon, met with comments from both grandmothers about how Sutton truly was both gifted and very well behaved. We expected no less.
My mother informed me Sutton had eaten all her food and drank her bottles as she normally did. She made no mention of anything out of the ordinary.
We all sat down for dinner and then, for dessert, I put some ice cream in a bowl. I had Sutton sitting on my lap and was just about to put the spoon in my mouth when I saw her open her mouth and stick her tongue out, Sutton language for “I want some of that.” That’s odd, I thought. She’s never done that before when I’m eating.
I took the cold spoon and put it in her mouth. She looked at me, smiled and then licked her lips. I quickly realized I was not introducing Sutton to the world of dessert.
Sure. And I believe both of you when you denied being the one who fed Sutton ice cream. It’s a good thing for both of you she can’t talk.