Saturday night, we babysat our nieces, The Banshees. Original Banshee, now five, and Baby Banshee, 19 months.
Some notes:
~ Baby Banshee called me Tee Tee for the first time and my heart did flip flops. Her mom pointed to me and asked her, “Who’s that?” She answered, whispering it with her tiny sausage fingers in her mouth. (Oh, please. I will die from the cuteness.)
“Tee Tee.”
Yep. Dead.
~ Oh, The Banshees call each other Sissy.
Seriously, it’s hard to babysit when you’re dead from too much cuteness.
~ At one point, I chased after Baby Banshee playing your basic “I’m gonna get you!!” game. She toddled around unevenly, squealing, trying to get away from me. Finally, she collapsed against the sofa, plopped on her butt, and stared at MB sitting in the chair across the room. She is fascinated by MB. His size, his height, his dark hair. From this distance, she just gazed wide-eyed at him — with eyes that look like they’ll end up green — always with that little pudgy hand in her mouth.
“Baby Banshee,” I said, “do you want to get Uncle Beloved?”
Wide-eyed whisper.
“Noooo.”
“Do you want Uncle B to get you?”
“Noooo.”
“Are you gonna run if he tries to get you?”
“Noooo.”
“So …. you’re just gonna let him get you?”
“Yessss.”
Those little frankfurter fingers never left her mouth and those huge changing eyes never left MB’s face.
~ My brother had a pizza delivered for dinner and once it arrived, MB was in the kitchen cutting a slice into bite-sized pieces for Baby Banshee. Unfortunately, the man has NO concept of “bite-sized.” A triple cheeseburger? Bite-sized. 20-oz. steak? Bite-sized. Entire Easter ham? Bite-sized. Bless his giant atherosclerosed heart.
Moments later, that baby girl perched in her high chair in front of her MB-sized pizza bites and stuffed one in her mouth.
I noticed its size too late. MB was staring at her.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
Now I was staring at her.
“Uh-oh,” I said too. “I hope you know baby Heimlich, Crackie.”
We watched her in a growing panic. She chewed and chewed and chewed. I swear she chewed that one bite of pizza for five hours. Or possibly thirty seconds. Potato, potahto.
And then ….. finally …. she swallowed that entire doughy wad all the way down. Whaddya know? A baby after MB’s own heart! I mean, her little choppers made mulch of that pizza.
Still, once we realized she was actually going to survive her very first bite of dinner, MB grabbed the plate from her and tore those pizza bits into actual bits.
Baby Banshee was completely unfazed.
~ Diaper-changing time. MB disappeared. I mean, the mere whiff of a diaper in a 20-mile radius and the man will literally dematerialize where he stands. Turns out, Baby Banshee is going through a phase where she hates to be naked. So she started screaming, naturally, once the diaper was off. God bless Original Banshee, who is really turning into a great big sister. She dashed into BB’s bedroom, reached for her hand on the changing table, and said, “Shhh ….. shhhh …. Sissy …. it’s okay ….. I love you, Sissy ……. shhhhhh …..”
~ At bedtime, Original Banshee waved her favorite book at me — a book I got her based on Sheila’s recommendation — When The Sky Is Like Lace. She loves that book. Seems to know it by heart …….. wonderful, magical book ….
On bimulous nights when the sky is like lace, the trees eucalyptus back and forth, forth and back, swishing and swaying, swaying and swishing — in the fern-deep grove at the midnight end of the garden …..
Beautiful.
Moments later, book closed.
It’s bed time for real.
Big hugs. Messy kisses.
Good night, sweet girls.
I, too, am dead from the cuteness. The image of Original Banshee comforting Baby Banshee during the diaper change – painfully cute. I love the Banshees.
Sweetness personified. Thanks for sharing.
Oh, my gosh–adventures in banshee-babysitting! And I can just picture the staring contest, as BB stared right back with her big eyes at her concerned aunt and uncle as she chewed up the super-sized pizza bite.