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A lady I never met before brought a baby boy to our house. It was a little boy. He cried and slept and ate. He even had a scab on his belly button. “It’s called a belly button cap,” said Mommy. All babies were born with that. Even you.” “Is he my brother?” I asked. “No. He’s not your brother. He will only be here a little while.” Daddy asked me, “Would you like to help us take care of the baby?” “NO!” I shouted. After I shouted, I pouted. One day, Mommy was changing the baby’s diapers, and a disaster happened. His belly button cap fell off. I started shouting, “Belly button! Belly button! Belly
[This message has been edited by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury (edited July 20, 2010).]
A baby arrived at our house today. It was a little boy. He cried and slept and ate. He even had a scab on his belly button. How strange, I thought, but Mommy explained, “It’s called a belly button cap. All babies are born with that. You had one too.” “Is he my brother?” I demanded to know. “No. He’s not you brother. He will only be here a little while.” Then, Daddy asked me, “Would you like to help us take care of the baby?” “NO!” I shouted. After I shouted, I pouted. Then one day Mommy was changing the baby’s diapers and a disaster happened. His belly button cap fell off.
feels like it's going to break into a Dr Seuss poem. You might want to change one of the rhyming words. I actually like the older version better, but neither one hooks me. I keep waiting for a hint that something unusual is going to happen, or a reason to care.
[This message has been edited by NoTimeToThink (edited July 25, 2010).]
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