Little Helper

When I walked in, he was sitting in a chair beside his mom’s bed, happily gazing at his new little brother and swinging his legs back and forth.  As he listened to the list of things I asked his dad to prepare, his face became serious, and he asked if we were going to bath the baby – obviously my mixed up language is almost perfectly understandable to children.  I’m sure that says something about my speaking abilities.  His mom smiled and let him know it wasn’t the baby’s turn for a bath yet, just hers.  I snuggled the baby in one arm and off we all trooped to the bathroom.  When I turned around from issuing another round of instructions, there he was, still close beside me.  Looking at the nice clean, empty bed beside us I told him to climb on. He obediently scooted his back to the wall, legs sticking out, and I set the baby into his little lap.  There they sat, nose to nose, while he sweetly tried to keep the blanket covering the little waving limps. Mom had a bath and I cleaned up the room.  Soon we all paraded across the hall to a new bed.  All day he stayed, always close by. He wheeled over the blood pressure monitor when it was time for mom’s checks, pumped up the cuff for me, and wheeled it back to its place.  When we did give baby his bath, he proudly held the soap bottle and poured it into my proffered hand.  His aunt arrived for a visit and he happily informed her that the baby sometimes cried, but he was just hungry and stopped when he ate.  As I wheeled my bike down the hallway, ready to head home, I noticed him a little ahead, high fiving the guard at the door.  He waved goodbye as I peddled off.  One new baby boy is the recipient of the sweetest of older brothers.