John Clifton and The Big Blurs

John Clifton B. came home from the hospital Thursday evening, though he’d never exactly been “home” before. So on Friday, a mere three days old, he was already out for a stroll. Well, he didn’t stroll much; he just rode in the carrier that rode in the car the two and a half blocks from his house to this one. For someone who doesn’t even know what a house is yet, he was doing pretty well. There are no witnesses, however, who can testify that he opened his eyes even once during the entire trip here.

I watched him carefully while he was here and I only saw those little eyes pop open once for about the blink of an eye. I think he caught a glimpse of me and decided that sleep was far more entertaining. Maybe not--probably he doesn’t see very well from a distance yet and doesn’t know what monstrous thing I am or am not. I’m just another giant blur, something of little consequence to a cute little self-serving organism of his kind. Later he’ll learn that the big blurs can be told to bring him things or lift him up so he can Grab More Stuff. The Blurs will also take care of some really personal business for him. Right now, he doesn’t want anything much and so does not even dream of asking.

When he begins to want something, he’ll cry out in that indecipherable language of babies and keep crying until the big stupid Blurs figure it out. In “History Of The World, Part I,” Mel Brooks’ character exclaimed, “It’s good to be The King!” because he got to walk around freely squeezing all the women’s—well, you get the idea. But actually it’s much much nicer to be The Baby. Not only does he too freely nuzzle women’s bosoms, but everyone has to learn his language, even if his sole language consists of piercing screams and some pretty peculiar body language.

But the main thing is that his Big Sister Shauna and I have decided that he’s about as cute as cute can get, but that he’s not any cuter than she is—that’s what Shauna told me and I nodded sagely in agreement—and we’re all in favor of putting up with his peculiar and selfish behavior until he learns how to talk. Then, if we’re still so inclined, we can tell him to Behave. Remember that powerful phrase back when you were young?

“Behave yourself!”

The number of exclamation marks behind those words was sometimes incalculable. Sometimes it sounded like thunder! Depending on how hard Momma or Daddy looked at you, you were in some kind of deep trouble. But John Clifton won’t be in any trouble at all for a while, for every trouble that he can get into just now and for a good while to come will just make people laugh and remark how Incredibly Cute he is. Shauna and I will have to make some adjustments, for, though we’ve been spoiled in our own turns, the new King of Cute has arrived!

---

John Clifton came by again on Sunday and again slept through nearly the whole thing. I did see him with his eyes open for, uh, oh, it must’ve been all of 2 minutes. But sleep called him and he closed his eyes and was soon gone again, like a rabbit down a rabbit hole.

---

It has been ordained and ordered that you Will have to read A poem today called EARNUR'S LAMENT in JUDY GARLAND BLUES, My Self-Rectifying New Poetry Blog for Old and New Poems

---

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "When he was young, he had thought that love had something to do with understanding, but with age he knew that no human being understood another." -- Graham Greene

---