A DAY CAN LAST FOREVER

Little four year old Joey was propped up in his upstairs bedroom with a medium sized cold.
He was bored, he was restless, he needed activity.
“Mommy,” he yelled as loud as he could, but he couldn’t yell very loud because of his cold. It sounded more like a croak.

Moms can hear whispers and croaks when their children are sick or feeling bad. Their ears stand at attention, just waiting to hear any signs of distress.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” answered Anita, his mom, climbing the stairs two at a time … without pausing at the landing to take a breath, she burst into the room at a gallop. “What’s wrong dearest?” she asked, breathing heavily.

“Mom, I’m bored, I’m restless and I need to do something. I’m going crazy. I want to go out and play with Sandy.” And having said all that, Joey folded his arms and waited hopefully for an o’kay.

“I can’t let you go out, my precious, you’re cold will only get worse and I’m sure you don’t want that to happen, do you?”

“But mom, I’ll dress warm, real warm. I’ll put on two sweaters, and two turtlenecks, and a jacket and a coat and a scarf and a cap and boots. I’ll be warm, I’ll sweat a lot and I’ll be all better when I come back, you’ll see. I’ll tell Sandy to stay away from me and she won’t catch my cold. Can I go mom, can I go, please, please?” The last was said so plaintively. It was sheer will power that prevented Anita from agreeing. She looked down at Joey with a half smile, thinking of how adorable, how sweet, how much of an actor he was.

“I’d love to say yes my love but I care for you too much to do that. Wearing all those clothes will make you sweat but it won’t stop the cold from getting worse. The only thing that will make you well is rest. You want to get better real fast, don’t you?”

“Yes but ----“

“ No buts my young man, you just have to stay put. Pretty soon, maybe in two or three days, you’ll be able go out and play.”

“Two or three days?” Joey’s face fell, he looked very sad. The corners of his mouth sort of drooped. “I wanna do something,” he demanded.

“Why don’t I tell you a story honey?” mom said brightly.

Joey’s eyes started to smile with excitement. “Oh boy, oh boy,” he said, clapping his hands. “Make it a real one,” he added. The outside could wait, Joey decided.

“Certainly Joey, what would you like to hear about?”
There was no hesitation. Joey wanted his favorite true story. “I want to hear about how I was borned.”

“You want to hear about how you were born?” She emphasized the last word.

“Yes I do, I do, I do,” Joey said, bouncing up and down all the while.

“After your dad and I were married a while,” Anita started, “We decided to have a baby because there was so much extra love in the house that we needed a place to put it. We thought you would be the perfect guy to give it to.” Anita paused, knowing what Joey would say.

He was right on cue. “What happened then?”

“I became pregnant and started carrying you around wherever I went. I was on the outside and you were on the inside. You kept on getting bigger and bigger,” Anita said, bringing her arms further and further apart.

“After three months had gone by, I looked down and I couldn’t see my feet because of my stomach. You kept on growing and growing and growing.”

“And I got bigger and bigger and bigger,” Joey echoed happily. “Yes you sure did,” mommy said and then continued, “What happened toward the end of my pregnancy?” she asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

“I know, I know, don’t tell me.” He thought for a second or two and then blurted, “I remember, I started to knock on the inside of your tummy. I went knock, knock.” Joey waited breathlessly for the next part of the well known drama.

“That’s right Joey, and I asked, who’s there?”

“But I wouldn’t answer,“ Joey exulted, enjoying the game more and more.

“And why couldn’t you answer, you little rascal?” Mom said with a little laugh.

:”Because babies don’t talk before they are born,” Joey shouted triumphantly.

“But I didn’t care, I just kept on talking to you as if you
were able to answer.”

“And one day you were outside,” Joey prompted.

“And I started to talk to you, nice and cosy like in my tummy. I pointed my mouth towards my belly button and said, “Isn’t it a nice day son?”

“And a man came along,” Joey interrupted, hugging himself with excitement. He knew the best part was coming.

“He looked at me and his eyes opened wide with wonder,” mom said giggling, and he asked, “Why are you talking to your tummy?”

“I’m not talking to my tummy,” I replied, “I’m talking to an almost real person.”

He laughed in a sort of funny way, “You’re talking to an almost real person and not to your tummy,” he repeated. “That’s a good one, now I’ve heard everything.” His face became really stern then and he added, “Madam, I’ll have you know that my eyesight is one hundred per cent perfect. You were definitely talking to your tummy.”

“But sir,” I answered, “I’m not talking to the outside of my tummy, only to the inside.”

“Only to the inside, only to the inside,” he repeated, his face became as red as a beet. “You mean to stand there and tell me to my face that you are talking to the inside of your stomach. Madam, you’ll be pleased to know that I was not born yesterday,” and he stamped his foot impatiently.

“That’s just it, you weren’t born yesterday, but my son will be born tomorrow or the day after and I‘m trying to make him feel less lonesome by talking to him.”

He looked at me, his mouth fell open but no words came out for at least ten seconds. Finally words came tumbling out, “Your talking to your son and he is not even born yet, boy that takes the cake,” and with that, he turned and walked off talking to himself.

“Boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, that woman is talking to someone who isn’t there in person.” Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.

Joey started to laugh at the same time as the ho ho ho had started. When that little guy started to laugh, his whole face lit up like a beacon and it was a good thing to see.
When he finally managed to stop laughing, he asked, “And then what happened?”

“What happened? Why the very next day you decided to come out and see what the world looked like from the outside.”
“What did I look like mummy?”

“Daddy and I thought you were the most beautiful being on earth. You had lots of black hair, and you had the cutest little mouth and nose. You were big too, eight and a half pounds of chubby joy. We loved every ounce.”

Joey listened, a happy smile on his face, “What did I do next?” he asked, knowing the answer in advance, but never tiring of hearing it again.

“Well you were awfully hungry, I could see but you couldn’t. All babies do not see right after birth. Anyway your mouth kept on opening and closing and you made little mewing sounds, very much like a kitten.”
Joey mewed like a kitten several times, hugging himself all the while. This is almost better than playing outside, he thought.

His mom continued, eyes shining with laughter, “I didn’t have any peanut butter sandwiches, I didn’t have applesauce or yogurt, I didn’t have a veggie burger, and I didn’t have a fruit or tofu vegetable salad.”

Joey couldn’t contain himself, “What did you have mummy?” he shouted.

“I had good mother’s milk and you drank as if there was no tomorrow. I think you wanted t fill every ounce of your eight and a half pounds.”

The story was coming to an end. Joey wished it could go on forever. His eyes started to close, he yawned once and then again for good luck.

Anita’s voice went on, all soft and purry, Joey heard it coming from far away. It was so comforting.

“Dad and I were so proud of you. We showed you off to your grandmas and grandpas and to all your aunties and uncles and to our friends and neighbors.”

Anita stopped, Joey was fast asleep, a little smile playing across his face. She leaned forward and kissed the smile softly.