As you guessed, a lot of my blog is going to be dedicated to the development of my nephew Jack.
I can’t say I’m happy that his name turns out to be the most popular boy’s name in Ireland in 2008. I’ll just have to learn more about this “unconditional love” philosophy I keep hearing about.
On Sunday – while hung-over as Bejaysis – I visited the homestead, after what I can only term a “guilt trip”. I commented how Jack is such a nice, quiet baby. Within minutes a primitive, guttural cry permeated from Jack’s mouth.
“Make it stop!” I pleaded.
The Bro investigated whether we were in wee or pooh territory.
Bro diligently removed Jack’s tiny nappy. Jack cried aloud. His tiny legs came into contact with the cool air. Bro spoke lovingly in an attempt to soothe him. Once the nappy was removed, Jack pissed in the air. The urine flew in a curved motion and splashed onto his face.
“Fuck!” cried Bro. “He’s doing it again”. He covered Jack’s face to avoid the same happening again.
Seconds later, Jack emptied his little bladder on his face once again. It made for a funny sight from the sofa across the room.
Hours later the newly-parents and Jack had departed for their own home. Mum and I heaved a sigh of relief.
Hangovers and new-born babies do not mix well.