Little Baby Bill
Jul. 1st, 2005 05:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
susandennisMy brother was born when I was 4. I was not a fan of the plan. I remember distinctly when they brought him home from the hospital. I remember the blanket, his outfit and what a huge ridiculous fuss they made over him. I thought the whole thing was just not necessary.
He was the son my father suffered through two daughters to get. He got my father's name. He got my mother's attention. I didn't even get a vote. It was bad enough they strapped me with a little sister but now this?!
We called him Little Baby Bill from the get go. In our prayers at night he was at the end of the GodBless string... "and Little Baby Bill". "Keep your eye on Little Baby Bill in the back yard!" "Don't tease, Little Baby Bill" It was sometimes shorted to Baby Bill but most often it was the whole name. And I swear to you we burdened that kid with it until he was in 1st grade and then teased him unmercifully about it until... well, actually, we still do.
He was a funny kid. Kind of OCD before OCD was fashionable. From about the time he learned to walk until he was toilet trained he wore a Daniel Boone coon skin cap. Everywhere. They made him leave it in the car for Sunday School and Church but that was a struggle. Then he graduated to a Superman pajama shirt with a towel safety pinned to his shoulders on the back (his cape). He wore this until he went to school. Every day. Every where. It was always good drama to watch Mom try to get it from him to wash it. And he grew out of the original one. Fortunately, Superman PJ's were not a flash fad so supply was not impossible to find.
And he would only eat Cream of Wheat. For something like a year.
And now Little Baby Bill is 52 and is putting on a new outfit. This morning in his email he noted that the deadline for ads for the Austin phone book was July 1. And he hit a snag with the lease on the store he wants so he won't have that nailed until probably the 7th or 8th. So he was worried about the ad. It's a big expensive one.
This afternoon I got a voicemail message on my cellphone from his cellphone. "It's your brother... " and then it cut off. I called him back - the connection sucked but I did manage to get from him that he was stuck in a AAA tow truck and not able to get to his computer and the ads had just come in for him to proof (he got the email on his Treo but couldn't see the ads). He gave me his gmail password and I hopped onto his account, looked at the ads, agreed which one - we worked out a plan for handling the store info and he hung up to call in the changes.
Little Baby Bill is all grown up.
He was the son my father suffered through two daughters to get. He got my father's name. He got my mother's attention. I didn't even get a vote. It was bad enough they strapped me with a little sister but now this?!
We called him Little Baby Bill from the get go. In our prayers at night he was at the end of the GodBless string... "and Little Baby Bill". "Keep your eye on Little Baby Bill in the back yard!" "Don't tease, Little Baby Bill" It was sometimes shorted to Baby Bill but most often it was the whole name. And I swear to you we burdened that kid with it until he was in 1st grade and then teased him unmercifully about it until... well, actually, we still do.
He was a funny kid. Kind of OCD before OCD was fashionable. From about the time he learned to walk until he was toilet trained he wore a Daniel Boone coon skin cap. Everywhere. They made him leave it in the car for Sunday School and Church but that was a struggle. Then he graduated to a Superman pajama shirt with a towel safety pinned to his shoulders on the back (his cape). He wore this until he went to school. Every day. Every where. It was always good drama to watch Mom try to get it from him to wash it. And he grew out of the original one. Fortunately, Superman PJ's were not a flash fad so supply was not impossible to find.
And he would only eat Cream of Wheat. For something like a year.
And now Little Baby Bill is 52 and is putting on a new outfit. This morning in his email he noted that the deadline for ads for the Austin phone book was July 1. And he hit a snag with the lease on the store he wants so he won't have that nailed until probably the 7th or 8th. So he was worried about the ad. It's a big expensive one.
This afternoon I got a voicemail message on my cellphone from his cellphone. "It's your brother... " and then it cut off. I called him back - the connection sucked but I did manage to get from him that he was stuck in a AAA tow truck and not able to get to his computer and the ads had just come in for him to proof (he got the email on his Treo but couldn't see the ads). He gave me his gmail password and I hopped onto his account, looked at the ads, agreed which one - we worked out a plan for handling the store info and he hung up to call in the changes.
Little Baby Bill is all grown up.
