I have a couple things to say so (shrugs), here goes…
She left me. I have a child now and I have no idea what to do with her. I don’t know how to take care of her. I can’t talk to her. I don’t hold her right. I don’t even know how and when to change her diaper. What do I feed her? Where do I keep her? I tried to pick her up yesterday – guess I held her too tight or I must’ve pulled on her shoulder or something – anyway, she screamed, so I quickly dropped her. She irritates me, but I have to tolerate her because she’s mine. My baggage. My problem. Every night she cries! I tried sleeping in her room (I made a cradle for her but please don’t make too much of it) because I thought she was afraid, but it only increased her wailing. I left the room… and she took it up a notch. I feel so helpless because I don’t want her and I know she doesn’t want me. We don’t sleep; we struggle to bathe, to eat, to even wear the damn diaper thing! We are a match made in confusion. You wouldn’t believe it but…I haven’t named her yet. No jokes.
We stare at each other sometimes. I’m sure she’s always wondering who the hell I am. Just like I’m wondering what the hell I was thinking when I made such a stupid mistake as to have sex without a condom! I tried to feed her one time, and I swear she kicked the bowl of cereal on purpose. I was putting the spoon in her mouth one minute, the next her chubby foot and the bowl were flying in the air. The little midgit! She looked at me then, gloating. I looked back, highly annoyed. Call it whatever. I know it was the mafia stare-down. And I looked away only ‘cause I had to clean up the mess, ok?
She doesn’t like me. I know, just like I don’t like her. The other day I came home from work and the lady who usually helps me babysit told me she had been an angel. I guess she finds me boring or something ‘cause I went over to her and her fists came up to her eyes. She let out a big yarn and she started making little fussing sounds. So, I shrugged and left her be.
Anyway, she’s here now. In my life, invading my privacy and taking up my space. I can’t hang out with the guys anymore. I can’t even have them over because like it or not, I have to admit I don’t want dirty language around her. She seems somewhat… innocent? She’s not all that bad though. Doesn’t pee or poo much. At least I don’t change her that much so I wouldn’t know. I’ll just try my best in the meantime while I search for people who are in need of a child. I know what you’re thinking but, I don’t want their money. I just want her off my hands.
I had a dream last night. In the dream I found people. A man and his wife. They needed a child desperately. She couldn’t give birth or so. I remember the exact address, the colour of the house, their faces…everything. And I’m going there today to drop what’s-her-name. Just as soon as I bathe her and wear her diaper so she doesn’t poo on me.
So, I’m bathing her and I remember this old song my mother used to sing when I was little. It always cracked me up; made me roll over with laughter. It struck me that I should try that with this one.
I begin to laugh as I sing it. I’m laughing so hard that I realise a little late that my little girl is laughing too. I go stock still and just stare at her. She’s still laughing; kicking her legs and splashing water in the tub and on my chest. Then she looks up at me and… she just smiles. A big all-gum grin that tightens my chest, clogs my throat, and nearly blurs my vision. She looks so much like me. I have a picture of myself smiling exactly like that now. This is SO scary!
I think I’m having mixed feelings now so, you know what? I’ll wait till next week Monday to go drop her off. I’ve written the address of the place down. Come next Monday I’ll give her out. For now…I think I like her smile.
(Written by @iniitama)
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