Page 70 of Finding Basil
He didn’t argue, and he took the seat, letting Abuela place the blanket throw over him.
He was asleep immediately.
When he woke with a start, he got up and rushed to the crib, and when Sage wasn’t there, his heart leaped into his throat. He ran out of the room and found Basil still sleeping on the table. He shook him awake, and then they both nearly had heart attacks as they ran through the house searching for their son.
They heard him out on the front porch, and they threw open the front door to see all the women making googly faces at Sage while he was in his bassinet stroller.
“Look at them,” Michelle said. “They forgot we were here.”
They sat on the porch together and saw their mothers and grandmother laugh at them, but their attention was soon back on the baby.
“Sage, your daddies are silly. They need some more sleep, is all, and your little butt needs to be getting into a routine! Youmay think you rule this house, but you don’t,” Michelle scolded the baby.
All Sage did was coo cutely.
“That doesn’t work on me.”
“You old liar,” Abuela accused. “Look at that face. Same face Basil would make at you. You never could scold him and let it stick.”
“I know. Good thing he was a good boy, or he’d have been hell.”
Basil laughed quietly. “Okay, we give. How do we get him on a schedule?”
“Start by not giving in to each little fuss,” Lila said.
“She’s right,” Abuela said. “Let him cry a little. I know it’s hard, and it breaks your heart, but you don’t have to pick him up every time he fusses. You’ll know the difference soon enough.”
“The difference?” Herb asked.
“His caca cry, his pee pee cry, his hungry cry, you know.”
Basil gasped, “There are different cries?”
“Of course,” Katherine said, and they all laughed at the two. “Herb was two months old, and he messed with me. He changed his cries. I was a basket case for a month.”
“Wait, are you trying to tell me you think I had that much mindfulness to fool you?”
“Babies learn quickly, and manipulation is their first real skill besides eating and drinking.”
Basil was angry. “Sage isn’t manipulative! Babies can’t help what they do.”
Abuela hushed him with a look. “Now, boy, I’ve seen more babies being born and growing up than you can imagine. Five of my own, and twenty grandkids! You don’t think I might know a little more than you?”
Basil deflated of his anger. Herb knew the feeling, though. His son was sweet and angelic, like Basil. There wasn’t a manipulative bone in his tiny body.
“They won’t believe it until they see it,” Katherine said.
Sage fussed, getting ready to cry, so Basil got to his feet and bent over to take him from the stroller.
Abuela slapped his hands away. “What did we just say?”
“He’s crying!”
“He’s not crying! He’s fussing a little because we weren’t paying attention to him. Instead of picking him up, try talking to him.”
Basil was frustrated, Herb could tell as he stood up and looked into the bassinet too.
Their little son had his face scrunched up like he was ready to scream bloody murder, but Basil talked to him, like he’d been told. “Hey, little man, it’s okay. Daddies are right here, along with your mean, cruel grandmothers.”
