Feeding the baby

  Today, my mama jokingly suggested that we leave the kidlets when their mother was running late, saying that Little Girl could take care of Baby Boy. I thought, Well, she knows how to feed him!

  So let me explain.

  Recently, we bought a box of corndogs for our lunches. They're the good kind, and I like them. Anyway, Little Bro had some and left his plate sitting on the living room desk with a tiny bowl of ketchup on it. Now, Little Girl is a lot of work, and she found that ketchup and started eating it with one of the corndog sticks. I didn't stop her because it wasn't a big deal, and she was happy.

  So I was on the couch, Baby Boy was behind me in his walker, just happy as a clam, and Little Girl was between us, eating her ketchup. I put Yo Gabba Gabba on for them, and then I watched a bit of it. After a while, I noticed that Little Girl was... quiet. Too quiet.

  "Little Girl," I called.  "What are you doing?"

  "Feeding Baby Boy," she responded.

  For a minute, that didn't really register. What did she just say? I thought. And then... No way.  She's not... I jumped up and turned around.

  Baby Boy was sitting in his walker, ketchup all over his chin. As chill as could be, I swear. (It seems that the worse Little Girl gets, the calmer Baby Boy becomes. Funny, huh?)

  Little Girl had been feeding him ketchup with a corndog stick. The five month old. I only looked away for a minute!

  So I cleaned his face and had a chat with Little Girl about food and her brother. I explained that he was too little and that big people food could give him an "ow" in his tummy. She listened, I think. Maybe. We'll see how it goes.