The Mustard Stain
Day 28 – I’m in a plane, heading East and somewhere over South Dakota looking down over the sparse lights of the eastern part of the State. Earlier, we passed 18 miles south of a lightning storm at play in the middle of a cumulo-nimbus cloud – the classic anvil shape rising high above us, and almost seeming to touch the darkened landscape below. Since June I have flown 9 times round trip from San Francisco to Newark, but on none have I ever been entertained with such a wonderful spectacle of natural force. Bolts shot out like cracks in a windshield in all directions, most were caught up in the anvil itself, as if playing with themselves and not even caring about the landscape below.
This weekend was a celebration of Michelle’s parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. The family was together –the three sisters and the four grandchildren, and two of the sons-in-law. In celebration, we convened upon the Hong Kong East Restaurant in Emeryville, the site of Michelle and my wedding banquet almost 2 years ago. This time, we only had 6 tables of 10 people each. But one of those tables, instead of having just Michelle and I, had our little Lian. We never really saw much of her – she must have been doted on by at least 5 different members of Michelle’s family, including one magical aunt who had the patience of a saint and a magic touch that quieted her most obnoxious of wails that she entertained us all with for quite some time!
What with family, children and celebrations, we had no time actually at home. In the short 38 hours that Michelle and I had together back in San Francisco, not once did I even remember opening the refrigerator (life as newborn father has meant that all our meals have been spent at home for the past 4 weeks), nor even turning on the morning radio. It was a whirlwind of family gathering, a cup of tea and a croissant picked up on the run at Le Café du Soleil, and a brisk walk on the beach with a 20 minute treat of flying a kite that I’d just purchased last weekend.
It was wonderful seeing Lian. She can be so peaceful, and her presence is a soothing influence on both of us. Michelle turned to me last night at 11pm as we were watching Lian stretch after feeding, and said: “you know how everyone told us that our time together would be different.” She paused. “This is that time.” We both gazed at the little girl propped on a pillow on her lap. Her eyes were closed, her arms extended above her head, her little mouth puckered in a little “o” and making her traditional bevy of wheezing, clicking and grunting noises. (Interesting side-note about babies and sounds…why do they make such noises –what is it about their respiratory systems that is so primitive or imperfect?)
One funny moment over the weekend: we sat for a family photo with Michelle’s family and the 4 grandchildren. After a long series of photos, we all got up from our seats on a drop cloth. Lian was placed on a beanbag that was covered by the drop cloth. As I picked her up, I noticed a large mustard-yellow colored spot where she had been sitting. Oh no…she pooped!
Yes, Michelle confirmed to me: she had pooped. I looked at her to chide her for having made a mess. “Petite caca-wet” I nuzzled my nose against her cheek. Then Michelle tapped my arm. “Sweetie,” she said, “you might want to check your shirt.”
Lian was in my arms, and I was wearing one of my best double-cuff English shirts for the family photo. I held Lian away from my chest, and there, I saw an even larger mustard-yellow colored stain that had turned my shirt from blue to a slightly pale green. “This won’t be the last time,” Mimi winked at me with a smile. “This is to make up for the time that she pooped all over me as I was changing her diaper!”
Lian - 2
Dean - 0
Mimi - 0
This weekend was a celebration of Michelle’s parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. The family was together –the three sisters and the four grandchildren, and two of the sons-in-law. In celebration, we convened upon the Hong Kong East Restaurant in Emeryville, the site of Michelle and my wedding banquet almost 2 years ago. This time, we only had 6 tables of 10 people each. But one of those tables, instead of having just Michelle and I, had our little Lian. We never really saw much of her – she must have been doted on by at least 5 different members of Michelle’s family, including one magical aunt who had the patience of a saint and a magic touch that quieted her most obnoxious of wails that she entertained us all with for quite some time!
What with family, children and celebrations, we had no time actually at home. In the short 38 hours that Michelle and I had together back in San Francisco, not once did I even remember opening the refrigerator (life as newborn father has meant that all our meals have been spent at home for the past 4 weeks), nor even turning on the morning radio. It was a whirlwind of family gathering, a cup of tea and a croissant picked up on the run at Le Café du Soleil, and a brisk walk on the beach with a 20 minute treat of flying a kite that I’d just purchased last weekend.
It was wonderful seeing Lian. She can be so peaceful, and her presence is a soothing influence on both of us. Michelle turned to me last night at 11pm as we were watching Lian stretch after feeding, and said: “you know how everyone told us that our time together would be different.” She paused. “This is that time.” We both gazed at the little girl propped on a pillow on her lap. Her eyes were closed, her arms extended above her head, her little mouth puckered in a little “o” and making her traditional bevy of wheezing, clicking and grunting noises. (Interesting side-note about babies and sounds…why do they make such noises –what is it about their respiratory systems that is so primitive or imperfect?)
One funny moment over the weekend: we sat for a family photo with Michelle’s family and the 4 grandchildren. After a long series of photos, we all got up from our seats on a drop cloth. Lian was placed on a beanbag that was covered by the drop cloth. As I picked her up, I noticed a large mustard-yellow colored spot where she had been sitting. Oh no…she pooped!
Yes, Michelle confirmed to me: she had pooped. I looked at her to chide her for having made a mess. “Petite caca-wet” I nuzzled my nose against her cheek. Then Michelle tapped my arm. “Sweetie,” she said, “you might want to check your shirt.”
Lian was in my arms, and I was wearing one of my best double-cuff English shirts for the family photo. I held Lian away from my chest, and there, I saw an even larger mustard-yellow colored stain that had turned my shirt from blue to a slightly pale green. “This won’t be the last time,” Mimi winked at me with a smile. “This is to make up for the time that she pooped all over me as I was changing her diaper!”
Lian - 2
Dean - 0
Mimi - 0
posted by Note Buyer at 11:25 PM
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