My Diaper Is Full, Dammit!: Life From the Perspective of Baby Johnson

Chapter 6: Beer and Walking

BEER:

The day started out like any other and I thought it was going to be just as boring. Thankfully, it was this holiday called the Fourth of July and there were people everywhere! There were so many stilettos to avoid and hot stuff to watch out for. I thought I was going to be stuck playing house with all the female patrons until Jerome showed up and saved me.

"Thanks bruh. Them girls was killin' me," I say as we crawl away.

"No problem. So, whats up?" he asks casually. I tell him about the perfume incident and he gets a good laugh out of that.

"I can't believe you said that!" he gasps between bouts of laughter, referring to what I said to Linda when she was chasisting instead of helping me. I grin and laugh a little, too. Looking at it from a different perspective, it does seem pretty funny.

"Johnson, Jerome, it's time to go back to the party," Linda says when she sees us sitting in the living room. We throw a fit because who wants to play dolls all day? But, they plop us into the yard anyway, leaving us for picking by the girl babies.

"Run for life! Every man for themselves!" I shouts lik a spaz. The girls just eye us curiously and go back to their dolls. I feel a smack on my head that I recognize as Jerome's signature hit.

"I oughtta smack you for being so stupid," he says. i just grin stupidly.

"But you already did," He just glares back and crawls to the slide we have set up in the corner of the yard. He starts sliding down it and looking like he's having the time of his life. He rushes back to me, breath short and exhilarated.

"Bro, you gotta go try that slide. When you go down it, it's like flying1 i haven't felt this amazing since  Jalexius took that white powdery stuff when I was in the womb!" He gushes.

I want to remind Jerome that, yeah, I know what it's like to go down the slide. I LIVE here, remember? But, for his benifet, I pretend like it was the hottest thing since bottled water.

Soon, Linda rounds us all up and makes us sit at the Kiddie Table. Little did I know, I'd be sitting at the kiddie table for quite a long time. The grown ups table looked like much more fun and they had way better food than us. Where as we got canned mush that's only good for finger painting, the grown ups got hot dogs, steaks, and this wonderful fruit called watermelon.

For drinks they give us watery apple juice while they sip on cola and the good apple juice that look so ice cold and refreshing in it's bottle.

I lick my lips, anticipating what a long nice drink from one of those bottles would feel like.

"Jerome, I'm going to borrow one of those apple juices," I tell him and waddle from the table before he can talk me out of it. At the end of the grown up table is a glass bottle of apple juice. I glance around to see if the coast is clear and grab it. Buzzing with adredaline, I rush back to the yable as fast as my knees can carry me.

"I got it!" I annouce, lifting the bottle up triumphantly. Jerome just shakes his head as I bring it to my lips and guzzle it down. By the time I'm done, I want to throw it back up. 

THAT WASN'T APPLE JUICE! It was disgusting, foul, like vomit in a bottle. Who created this stuff? As I lasy there choking on the rancid taste it left in my thoart, Jerome is barely hanging on to his chair, just laughing his black ass off.

"I told you!" he manages to gasp as I retch pver the side of my chair. Now it's my turn to glare at him. After a couple of minutes from drinking that apple juice, my head begins to feel all woozy and images get distorted. 

"Jerome, I just wanna let you know," I slur as I swing my arm around him, "that you are like my best friend man," I lean even closer to his face. "My best friend," I whisper. I stumble around the yard for a bit and take a few more sips of the apple juice when I get thirsty and Linda catches me and freaks out.

"OH MY GOD, JOHNSON, HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING BEER!?" she screams into my face. 

"No derr," I slur. She continues to scream and shout, but I can't really hear her bucause I'm focusing on this weird feeling my stomach is getting. Just as she starts accusing Harold of letting me have beer, I lean over her shoulder and promptly vomit on her back. The last thing I remember is Linda's ear peircing scream as I passed out.

WALKING:

I wake up the next morning with no reoccurence of what happened last night and skull pounding headache. I whine to Linda about this as soon as I wake up beacause the pain is unbearable and she gives me this powdery white stuff she calls Advil.

"You must be so hungover," she says as she pours water down my throat, Okay, she didn't literally pour water down my throat, but it sure felt that way the way kept forces bottles of water into my mouth.

I could barely eat a thing all day, even my Cocoa Puffs came back when I ate them. I start feeling a bit better by noon and decide to go out and play on the slide. 

I'm climbing and sliding and sliding and climbing and it all becomes such a blur that when I get off the slide, I don't even realize I've finally walked until I hear Linda squeal.

"Oh, my god Johnson, you're walking!" she gasps. i look down and see that, in fact, I am walking. I squeal to myself, too, and walk to Linda. She lifts me into her arms and showers me with kisses. 

"Let me go get the camera," She rushes back into the house and I use the time to try out this new walking thing. It's a lot different from crawling where I had to use both arms, knees, shins, and legs, but definitely easier.

Linda returns with the camera and I give her the show she wanted. I walk around, I walk around some more, and. . . walk some more. There's really not much else to do, but Linda sems satisfied and just beams with pride.

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