How strange to have a boy in the house. And, how exciting.
We all helped Mom. He belonged to all of us. And I am sure that confused him, but who wouldn’t want four ladies fawning over all over you?
His rear was never wet, his room was never messy, his bottle was always full, and his every coo and babble caused an instantaneous reaction….
The oohs and aahhs going on in our house would put any fireworks demonstration to shame.
Yes, we smothered him, but he didn’t seem to mind. And, Bill being Bill, he understood at a very early age that we meant well. Our protective moments, our constant assistance was never met by an angry cry. He let us fuss over him with a sweet smile on his face.
(Of course, he might’ve been milking it. He didn’t independently clean his room until he was in school.)
Bill was smart. Ordered, steady, observant, and quiet. He added calm to the chaos over our home. And everything was better because of him.
And, while it would be challenging for him to grow up with four women surrounding him, his biggest test was coming…
Failure was not an option.