“Are we going to trick-or-treat at
Grandmoms’ & Grandpa’s house?” a small voice asked from the doorway.
Without turning from the slippery
one-year old in the bathtub she was kneeling over, Trixie answered, “That’s
where we’ll start and where we’ll end up, Win.”
Blowing upward to make the damp curls on her forehead move out of her
eyes, she concentrated on hanging on to her wiggly and slippery younger
son. Win had been much easier to bathe
than his little brother – he hadn’t liked the water nearly as much. “We should’ve named you Jonah instead of
Noah,” she muttered, “You are so like a fish.”
Big blue eyes, so like her own, looked
at her as her youngest son grinned up at her.
“Mommy, did you know that Noah is like
a jack a’ ladder?” Win queried from behind her.
“No, sweetie, how’s that?” Trixie
asked as she grinned back at the baby and quickly soaped up Noah’s back and
tummy as he hung over her arm, trying to reach the bottle of bath gel on the
side of the tub.
“’Cause he’s only got 4 teeth &
they’re right in the front. That’s just
how I made my jack a’ ladder at school today.”
“Actually, he has 6 teeth, Win. The other just aren’t in all the way
yet.” ‘Thank goodness,’ she thought ‘those
four are painful enough…I can’t wait until I get him all the way weaned!’
“Oh, well, that’s what his costume
should be this year – a jack a’ ladder.”
“That’s what he was last year,
remember, when he was a little baby. And it’s jack o’ lantern.” Some of
Win’s pronunciations were scarily like his Uncle Bobby’s at that age.
“Oh, yeah, jack a’ lander. Hey, I was a pirate…aargh, matey!”
At
his brother’s pirate yell, Noah sat down abruptly in the tub, startled. He screwed up his face to scream and then
realized that it was just his big brother.
The scream changed to a laugh and he started to splash.
“Okay, little monster, bath time is
over,” Trixie said, ducking her head to
keep the water from her eyes, yet still hanging on to an arm, “Win, can you
hand me Noah’s towel? It’s on the
counter behind me.”
“Sure, Mommy, no problem.”
As she lifted the suddenly dead-weight
toddler from the tub & stood up, she asked, “You’re ready to go, right,
Win?”
“Almost, Mommy.”
“Good. Aunt Honey and your cousins
should be here pretty soon.”
Turning with the now howling and stiff
Noah, his daily after-bath performance, she automatically reached for the towel
her oldest son was holding. Catching
sight of him for the first time, the towel dropped unnoticed from her hand.
“WINTHROP MATTHEW FRAYNE! WHAT ON EARTH…” her voice died down as she
looked at the five year old boy in front of her.
His “almost ready” consisted of his
cowboy boots and his cowboy hat – nothing else.
His green eyes suddenly filling with
tears, he mumbled something under his breath.
“What did you say?” Trixie’s voice
lowered a few decibels.
“I couldn’t decide which underwear I
wanted to wear,” he repeated in a subdued tone, “ I was going to wear Star
Wars, but that doesn’t go with being a cowboy…neither does Superman, Spider-man
or Batman…” his voice dwindled off as he saw the expression on his mother’s
face.
Opening her mouth to tell him to get
into his room and get clothes on immediately and it didn’t matter what
underwear he wore, just as long as he had some on, her expression suddenly
changed. Looking down at the still dripping,
still hollering and still naked child in her arms, Trixie saw a pale yellow
stream making contact with her jeans.
“Oh man, Mommy, he’s going potty all
over you,” Win exclaimed rather happily; maybe this meant he’d be off the hook.
“James! Bathroom!
Now!”
Hearing his wife call, Jim
sighed. He’d been at his desk trying to
finish grading some essays from a fifth grade class. He’d heard most of the commotion from upstairs
and knew he should’ve gone up sooner to help, but he was on the last paper. Realizing that Trixie’s voice was at the
breaking point, he dropped his pen and took the stairs two at a time. As he turned at the bathroom door, he had to
bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
The bare backside of his eldest was
the first thing he saw, followed by the red face of his wife and the even
redder face of his younger son.
He walked in and put his hand on Win’s
shoulder. “Win, why don’t you hurry in
and finish getting dressed. Scooby Doo
underwear will work – they solved some mysteries that involved cowboys.”
“That’s right, Daddy, I’d forgotted
about that…I think there was a ghost in
that one too…that’s perfect for Halloween night. Hey, Dad,” he called over his shoulder as he
walked down the hall, “Next year, let’s find me some Halloween underwear. Won’t that be cool!”
A scream from Noah covered up any
response Jim might have had to that remark. However, it wasn’t a scream of pain or anger,
it was a scream of laughter as the little boy looked at the yellow puddle he’d
made on the floor. Not even daring to
look at Trixie’s face, Jim reached for the baby and towel and said, “I’ll take
care of Noah. His costume is on his bed,
right?”
A gurgle of sound came from Trixie’s
throat as she tried to answer. Taking
it for an affirmative, Jim went out the door, “Sweetie, why don’t you go get
changed. I’ll make sure Win finishes
getting ready and then we can go.”
Glancing at her, Jim saw that she nodded as she knelt down to dry up the
puddle on the floor with a discarded towel from Win’s earlier bath.
Moments
later, Trixie walked into her room. She quietly shut the door behind her, even
though she felt like slamming it in defeat, and went into the adjoining
bathroom. Stripping off her wet clothes
– between bathing the two boys and Noah’s potty accident, she’d have to change
down to the skin – Trixie looked in the mirror to see if she’d ripped all her
hair out in frustration yet or not.
Nope, still blonde curls. Back
in her room she quickly pulled on dry underwear and then tried to find
something else to wear. She had planned
on wearing a black sweater that had a jack o’ lantern on the front…she’d found
it a couple of years ago when shopping with Win and he thought it was the
coolest shirt she owned and couldn’t figure out why she didn’t wear it all the
time. Unfortunately, the cat had also
found it irresistible and had kneaded it rather thoroughly that afternoon and
snagged it so badly that she couldn’t wear it. Moms or Honey might be able to
salvage it, but not tonight. Rummaging
around in her closet, she found a black turtleneck, maybe that would work. And of course, the black socks with pumpkins
on the cuffs. Another must have for
Halloween that Win thought should be everyday attire. Now all that was left were jeans. Subconsciously she’d been avoiding that
because she knew what she’d find.
Ten minutes later, Jim came into their
room, feeling quite pleased with himself because he had both boys in their
costumes and ready to go trick-or-treating. They were now playing happily in
the family room while watching “The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” His pleased smile dropped when he walked into
their room and found Trixie curled up on the bed in a black turtleneck and
Halloween socks, with her eyes closed.
“Umm, Trix, are you ready?”
“Do I look ready?” she said softly.
“Well, if we were having a party
without the boys, I’d say yes, but…”
A tiny smile crossed her lips, to be
quickly replaced by a frown, “I can’t go.”
“What do you mean, you can’t go?” Jim
asked.
“I don’t have any jeans to wear.”
“You must have something,” he
answered, trying to figure out how she couldn’t have anything to wear when
there were jeans on the shelf in the closet.
Sitting upright she glared at him,
“No, I don’t. I have two pairs of jeans
that fit decently. One of them got chocolate
frosting all over them this afternoon when Win “forgotted” that he’d been
frosting cookies in class and grabbed me to tell me he wasn’t ready to come
home yet. The other pair just got
drowned by Noah, who, by the way we should’ve named Jonah.”
Not clear on what her last remark
meant, Jim sat down on the edge of the bed next to his irritated wife. “What about the jeans in the closet?”
****
Continuing to glare at her incredibly
intelligent, yet incredibly dense husband, she explained. “James, those jeans
have not fit me since Win was born. They will never fit me again.”
Confused, Jim asked, “Well, if they’ll
never fit you again, why do you still have them in your closet? Why don’t you
donate them or something and get some new ones?”
“Because I keep hoping that a miracle
will happen and that one of those pairs of jeans will fit. I hate getting rid
of them because it seems like such a waste of money. And if I get rid of them then
I’ll have to go shopping for some new jeans. And I hate shopping!”
Still confused, Jim said, “So, you’ve
only had 2 pairs of jeans to wear for the past 5 years?”
“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know! It’s all
your fault though,” Trixie snarled. “You and your huge babies – you know what
babies that are over 9 pounds do? They make your hips change in ways that they
will never come back from!” A tiny sob escaped as she flopped back down on to
the bed and pulled the pillow over her face.
Feeling way out of his realm of
understanding, Jim went over and flipped through the hangers in the closet. He
found a skirt that he knew Trixie actually liked, but he didn’t know if it was
in the same category of the jeans or not, but he figured it was safer not to
ask. And with the temperatures dropping and how it had been spitting snow
earlier in the day, a skirt was not something she was going to want to wear.
Turning from the closet, he started
looking through her dresser drawers. Hearing what he was doing, she mumbled, “It’s
no use, there’s nothing in there either.”
With a sigh, he sat back down on the bed
next to her and gently rubbed her back. “Sweetie, I think it’s time that you go
shopping. I know you hate it, but if all your clothes are making you unhappy,
then it is time to get some that you like and are comfortable.”
A moan escaped as Trixie flopped on to
her back. “I know, but I hate going shopping and I never know what actually looks
good or not. It’ll look good in the store and then I get home and it just doesn’t.”
“I bet Honey or Di would go shopping with
you.”
The pillow connected forcefully with
his head. “I’m sure they would, but I don’t know if I could survive that.”
Rubbing the side of his head and
scooting a little further away on the bed, Jim tossed out another suggestion, “What
about your mom? You and Moms haven’t had a day together that didn’t involved
kids or gardens or cooking in ages.”
There was less force behind the pillow
this time; he wasn’t sure if that was because she liked that idea better or
because he had moved.
“Maybe. Not that it will do me much
good – they won’t fit for long and then probably won’t fit after the next one.”
“I’m sure they’ll fit for awhile. And
the next one won’t be for awhile.”
Trixie snorted and muttered something
as she rolled off the bed.
“What was that?” Jim asked, thinking
he’d heard her but not sure if he should be excited or concerned.
Stomping over to the closet and
pulling out the skirt he’d looked at a few minutes before, she replied, “I said,
try 7 months.” She pulled on the skirt and then opened a drawer of the dresser
and pulled out some black tights. Slamming the drawer she continued, “So buying
more jeans isn’t something I really want to do since they won’t fit in another
month.”
She turned to Jim with tears in her eyes,
“So that awhile isn’t really that far away.”
He grabbed her in a tight hug. No
wonder she was an emotional mess.
“Really?” he asked with his face in
her blonde curls.
“Really,” she replied.
“Are you happy about this,” Jim asked
softly as she turned away and picked up the tights she’d tossed on the bed.
“Actually, I am. I’m just pretty nervous.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the tights up her legs, she
continued, “I hadn’t been feeling great earlier this week but didn’t say
anything because I knew I was having my annual exam yesterday. The doctor had
them do a pregnancy test on my urine sample because I couldn’t remember when my
last period was.” Standing up to grab the skirt and pull it on, Trixie turned
back to Jim, “It was positive. I was going to tell you last night, but with
carving pumpkins and baths, there was just never time.”
It had been crazy last night –
and she’d fallen asleep lying next to Win in his bed reading Peter Rabbit to
him. She’d woken up around 2 in the morning and crawled into bed only to be
awoken by Noah at five with a wet diaper and ready to go for the day.
Before Jim could respond, they heard
the downstairs door slam and a familiar voice call up the stairs, “Yoo-hoo, anyone
home?”
Win’s little voice called out, “Aunt
Honey! Timmy!”
Jim gave Trixie another hug, “I’m
sorry about the jeans dilemma, but I’m not sorry they aren’t going to fit for awhile
longer. Is that okay?”
“Yes, because that’s pretty much how I
feel. Though I will tell you this, Noah is going to get cranky ‘cause he’s
getting weaned completely rather he likes it or not!”
Jim chuckled. “I’ll head down and watch
the kids and I’ll send Honey up here. Maybe she can help you with the clothes
dilemma.”
A few minutes later Trixie was happy
to see her best friend and sister-in-law walk through the door.
“A skirt?” Honey raised her eyebrow as
she flopped down on the bed.
“My two pairs of jeans were both casualties
of Hurricane Win and Tropical Storm Noah – frosting and pee – that’s what
little boys are made of,” Trixie replied ruefully and flopped down on the bed
too.
“Ugh! Well, if it makes you feel any
better, Timmy decided to “holp” today and gave the dog a bath – outside in a
flower bed because ‘Momma he rolled in the dirt and got dirt in his fur so I ‘cided
to holp you and rinse it out.’
“So, we can add mud and dog fur to the
frosting and pee that little boys are made from,” Trixie said
sarcastically.
“Maybe little girls are made from
something different?” Honey said with a grin.
“Well, if we take out the pee, the
frosting, mud and dog hair probably summed me up at Win’s age.” Trixie laughed
ruefully, “But let’s just blame that on the fact that I had two older brothers.”
Both women laughed, Trixie’s tales of
her tomboy childhood chasing after Brian and Mart were legendary.
As she followed Honey down the stairs
to their sons and husbands, Trixie thought, “Well, maybe in 7 months we’ll
find out what little girls are made of if this one is a girl…but with two older
brothers, is she even going to have a chance?!” With a sigh, she grabbed
her coat and followed the others out into the cold October evening. Jim grabbed
her hand and squeezed it as he held Noah in his arms. Win and Timmy ran ahead to
the family vehicles with Honey and Dan.
“Did you tell Honey,” Jim whispered.
“No, you know I always tell Moms
first,” Trixie responded. “Well, after you that is.”
Jim laughed softly, “You never tell
Moms. Moms takes one look at you and guesses. Is that why you’ve steered clear
of Crabapple Farm all week?”
Blushing in the darkness, Trixie
nodded her head, “Yeah, because I was in denial and she’s always right, dang
it. With all of us Bob-White girls.”
Ten minutes later the group entered
the stretchy walls of Trixie’s childhood home. It had taken longer to load the
three boys into their respective cars and carseats than the drive down the hill!
Walking
in with Honey and leaving the men to deal with the boys, Trixie saw her mom
coming to greet them. Bracing herself for her Moms’ happy cries, Trixie was totally
unprepared for Helen’s exclamation.
“Again! Girls! When are you both due?”
Honey and Trixie looked at each other
in shock. And then they both started laughing. And laughed harder when they
both said, “May!”
Catching this as they brought in three
busy little boys, Jim and Dan looked at each other.
“Here we go again,” Dan sighed,
leaning heavily against the door he’d just closed.
Jim sank down on the bench by the door
and shook his head. “We thought it was bad 5 years ago with Win and Timmy. I
have a feeling this is going to be much worse.”
Trixie kissed him on the top of his
head as she pulled Noah’s coat off. “Happy Halloween – we can decide if this is
a trick or a treat.”
“Definitely a treat,” Peter Belden
said from the kitchen doorway where he’d been listening to the conversation. “Definitely
a treat.” He hugged Timmy and Win who had grabbed his legs and said, “Let’s go
celebrate this good news with some apple cider and Grandmoms’ donuts!”
He smiled as he walked back into the
kitchen with his grandson and the little boy he considered another grandson.
More grandkids were the best treat he could think of any day of the year.
This story has been sitting on my hard drive since 2007. At least the part above the asterisks. The rest I wrote last year and finished up this year. It's not my best work, but dang it, I wanted it to go somewhere besides my hard drive!!! I cannot remember now if the bathroom scene was something inspired by my two sons (who would've been 5 and 1 in 2007 and are now 19 and 15), but it wouldn't surprise me if it was. Hope you enjoy this silly little story. Thanks for reading!
