As you may know, I spend my Monday nights delivering programmes to 80 Brownies and Guides (40 or so of each) - yes indeed, large units, but well-organised, with large leadership teams, providing good Guiding.
This was nothing compared to today's challenge - I was entrusted to walk the dog and the baby (one is called Sage, the other Isaac - reassuringly, they both answer to both) from one house to the other, by myself - just me and the boys. It is a distance of about half a mile, crossing multiple roads.
The advice was to stay close to the left where there is no 'sidewalk' ('pavement' to British amongst us) and to put the lead across the top of the 'stroller' ('buggy') to stop the dog pulling. It was all going so well, until the wheels got stuck in a minor trench and nearly catapulted the baby, or the dog, or both into the path of the traffic which was not 'yielding' ('giving way'). We overcame this and, all in tact, used the 'crosswalk' successfully, once I'd worked out where the traffic was coming from. You have to be careful with Jay Walking here, because he's illegal.
The baby went very quiet. We walked past a grocery store and I was reassured to see the reflection of two tiny feet which confirmed that he was still there. I walked round the front of the stroller; the baby looked at me and said, 'You're the best Auntie I could possibly wish for'; but nobody else heard.
We walked past several houses who had put their possessions 'out front' for people to take - this is a normal thing here; they call it a 'garage sale'. In Plumstead, people put their unwanted possessions, usually mattresses, outside other peoples' houses; we call it 'fly tipping' and call the council. I've got them on speed-dial.
We got into the house - there is still a curious man in the garden, but I think he is a gardener. The baby happily bounced in his bouncer, whilst Auntie made a cup of tea. We played peek-a-boo, which the baby loved - although he might just have wind. Then his mum came back and baby started wailing! It must be difficult being a baby. A wail could mean - 'I'm hungry'; 'I'm tired'; 'I'm sitting in my own faeces and it's pretty grim, perchance could you change me'; or just 'get lost Auntie; we might share some of the same genetic make up, but you didn't give birth to me and I want my Mom not you.'
His parents are now shuttling between the two houses, bringing over the last of their possessions, whilst the grandparents are, I'm not sure actually, probably at the other house cleaning the bathroom. So I am on baby-watch and dog-watch, with a stuffed fox for company.
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