Marvin
"Babies are weird," I tell Whizzer. We're watching Jason because Mendel is at work, and Trina is at work as well but not working. Apparently she never sorted out her maternity leave (I don't know how they didn't notice she was almost ten months pregnant, if they didn't).
"What's weird about them?"
"They look like dolls." I examine my son's face. "Their eyes look like glass."
"Actually, dolls look like babies," Whizzer points out. "They're supposed to."
I change the subject. "Does he still not feel like yours?"
"Of course he feels like mine. He is my son, isn't he?"
"Yes. Oh, my God, Whizzer. How much affirmation do you need?" I ask, light-heartedly.
"I don't need any. Anyway, I bet you're glad Jason's still a Cancer, huh? God forbid he be born in late July to late September."
"You don't have to make fun of me. What about your beef with people who like Glee?"
"Don't even talk about that."
"Oh, no. I sure hope we don't raise Jason on Glee. It would be a shame if he were to idolize... Mr. Shue."
Whizzer covers his ears. "I said don't talk about that!"
"Sorry, sorry, I'm just teasing you," I say assuringly. "Look, isn't this nice, arguing jokingly? Better than real."
"I suppose," he replies with (mock?) indignation.
"You know I love you, right?"
"Of course. And I love you, too. But God, this isn't where I expected to be after ten months of dating."
"Well, what about Mendel and Trina? For them it was, like, eight. And they're the ones living with the kid. At least until he's done breastfeeding."
"They need to do that for an unreasonable amount of time," my boyfriend notes, still standing from when I made him mad about Glee.
"Right? So you can't eat solid food yet. Non-solid food that doesn't come from whomever gave birth to you is available. Maybe Trina will decide to stop early," I add hopefully.
"And Mendel thinks parenting is 'stressful'. Jason's so well-behaved, you forget he's there."
"Preach."
"Is he there?" Whizzer checks. "Oh, yeah. Anyway, I bet the newborn stage is the easiest."
"So, like, why can't he stay with us now?"
"Breastfeeding, remember?"
"Yeah..."
We go on ranting about this back and forth for a while. I can't help admitting, though, that we're just oblivious, and that will soon change.
I turn out to be right.
Mendel
I had a good friend whom I miss dearly. Its name is sleep.
Sure, my worries before any of this happened already kept me up late, but now I'm woken up, after I finally fall asleep. Because, apparently, the baby is supposed to sleep right in our bedroom for the first six to twelve months of its life. This sends me on a train of thought one sleepless morning, as I am again awoken by Jason's woeful screams.
"Hey, Trina?" I ask my girlfriend when she comes back to bed after calming down our child.
"What is it, honey?"
"How is this going to work with Marvin and Whizzer? Like, I don't think we should be moving around a baby so often, but this was part of the arrangement from pre-birth..."
"Oh, damn it." Trina's face falls. "Damn it. You're right. Maybe we should just ask them to move in with us."
I perk up. "Maybe that's not a bad idea."
"Huh?"
"Yeah. Do you think so?"
"Well, I was being pretty sincere, so..." She shakes her head to remind herself, "We need to ask them first. I'm not going to force them to do anything."
"That's true. But it would help us work as the family we planned, really."
"Where would they sleep?" she points out, suddenly doubtful.
"I'm sure we have an air mattress somewhere. We could always make them—let them sleep in the living room."
"Do we need two?"
"Trina."
"Marvin cheated on me."
"We'll talk about this tomorrow—well, today, but when the sun rises." I look outside. "When it's fully risen. My point is, let's go to sleep."
"Agreed," says Trina.
(Author's Note: that was short)