Lonely and Tired

The Nanny

"Nope." I held the grinning baby in extended arms and jiggled him slightly in Brian's direction. The baby's legs kicked in the air and as he smiled at me I had to admit that he was very cute however he could have been as cute as a basket of Golden Retriever puppies and I still would not have been prepared to deal with the stench emanating from his nether regions.

Brian threw me a soulful look that I'm sure had succeeded more than once in the past in getting him his own way. Not this time mate. In my opinion I had already gone above and beyond by dealing even this much with the little guy's toxic waste explosion. He wasn't my kid, he was Brian's kid and whilst he was adorable I had no intention of getting too attached. I'd once gotten pretty attached to the idea of a non-existent baby so had no intention of repeating my mistake by becoming too attached to real one that I'd have to say goodbye to if his dad and I broke up.

"Come on Brian, you're the guitar hero we need right now. The next generation of shredders here needs his bodily functions dealt with!" As I advanced toward where Brian slouched back on the sofa my nose wrinkled. The smell from the baby grew more noxious with every step.

Brian smiled in response to the baby's gummy grin. As he reached out his arms to take his son he must have inhaled a whiff of the stench because he recoiled with a look of horror. "Fuck me sideways Ace, what the hell is that smell?"

I directed a pointed look at the baby dangling from my hands midway between Brian and me and said, "That is the scent of satan. Otherwise known as the contents of Baby Haner's nappy. Oh and language Brian, watch what you say around small ears or I'll have to dob you in to Michelle."

"Okay first of all I'm fairly certain that your cousin's demon child has taught the other guys' kids words that have never come out of their parents' mouths. I still remember the fuck storm at Matt's place, so I'm not holding out too many hopes that my kid is going to be a shining beacon of clean language. Secondly, what the hell is a nappy? And thirdly what will you do to me to Michelle?" he took the baby from my hands, pressed a kiss to his forehead and raised a questioning eyebrow in my direction.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Harper's not that bad, I too remember the fuck storm and I'm pretty sure that if you asked anyone who was there they'd tell you that you and Matt started it," I winced as I realised I too had just dropped an f-bomb in front of the baby. It'd probably wind up being his first word at this rate. "When it comes to nappies and dobbing let me elucidate, my vocabulary challenged American friend. A nappy is a diaper and dobbing is being a tattle-tale which is what I'm going to be if you don't deal with the stench before it gasses us all."

I'm not going to lie, the nappy, diaper, insert your preferred term here, was something to strike fear into the heart of even the most hardened of parents but Brian tackled it with aplomb and what was obviously practiced skill. Clearly his attempts to get me to change it were some kind of carefully considered hazing ceremony. Well played Haner, well played but not well enough.

There was a bracing breeze off the ocean as we strolled along the pier. Brian was pushing the fruit of his loins in what he'd kindly instructed me was referred to as a stroller in the US.

I spat out the lock of hair that had attached itself to my lip-gloss after being blown into my face by the wind. When I leaned over to check that the baby hadn't dislodged his adorable bobble hat I saw that he was chewing on his rusk with the nonchalance of a gangster smoking a cigar.

"Hey little guy, smoking's banned on this pier. Haven't you noticed your dad twitching for a cigarette like Cancer Man in the X-Files?" The baby didn't respond but made his opinion known in no uncertain terms by chewing harder.