It's no secret in my family that I'm not a big fan of little kids. I have been quoted in the past as saying: "Just introduce me to him when he's out of diapers and understands logic."
But I must admit that 3 week old Edward Vincent McLean has me wrapped around his tiny perfect fingers already.
We had planned for Maria to go down to Ottawa and help Sarah out the first week that Dave returned to work. However her sister was not well in Kingston so she had to go down there for a few days instead.
Grandpa had to pinch hit until Grandma could get back there on Wednesday. Not entirely confident in my attempts to do so, I advised Sarah upfront. "This is not what you'll get with your mother...but I'll try."
I soon discovered that I still had the old baby magic though. I can get the most unburpable child to burp - just ask my favorite green Greg Norman sweater. Also I can walk and rock him to sleep just as effectively as I did with his mother back in November 1977.
The sights, sounds and smells of a three week old are irresistible too. Well some smells are at least. For more scatological needs I can still hand him back to Mom and Dad and never run the risk of getting shat upon - which Sarah did to me more than once (she was paid back for her crimes today.)
Grandma's coming home tonight as she has to go to the optometrist and do her volunteer work tomorrow. So I'm going back to Teddyville. It's my turn. I'm hooked.
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