Teething Baby

Look at that! I said to my mother. I pointed at my baby brother’s mouth. It was red and I could see something tiny and white poking up.
“That is a tooth,” my mother replied. “He is teething. Those are called his gums and that little white part is the top of his tooth. Poor guy. Babies don’t feel good when they teethe.”
My brother started crying. His nose was runny and it made it hard for him to breathe. His eyes were watery and not shiny blue like usual. I felt bad for him. I could tell that he did not feel well and those teeth coming up were worse than having a cold.
My mother and I worked together to help him feel better. We bathed him and clothed him. Then we wrapped him in his favorite blanket which he loved more than anything else. It seemed to soothe him for a little while, but then he started crying again. Poor guy.
“This is going to be a very long day!” sighed mother. “It will be so good when your father gets home!”

Mother’s Day Gifts

It was Mother’s day. I did not have a gift for my mother. Neither did my brother. So we went to my father and asked him if he would take us to the store to look for a gift. He said he hadn’t bothered to get one yet either so we all went in the car together.

The weather was bad and the smog in the city made it hard to breathe. But in the end our trip was worth it because we found the most perfect gifts for mother.

There were some salts to help you bathe, some lotion for smooth skin, and some feather pillows to help you relax. All of those sounded very soothing to me.

My brother found some rubber, squishy toys. I told him they were for babies who are teething.

My father found a lathe and a leather belt for mother. I told him that she would absolutely loathe them. They trusted me and put their gifts back. They helped me buy the soothing gifts I found and we drove home together.

I was happy because my mother was going to love them much better than the gifts my father and brother had chosen. And I learned something. People often pick out what they want for themselves instead of thinking of what the other person would want. Don’t you think that’s silly?


I am an Artist