Chapter 7
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Anderson woke up with a crick in his neck and quickly realized he had fallen asleep on the floor in the triplets’ bedroom. He groaned, feeling a chill in his body.
The door opened just then, and Burton stood there, staring in astonishment. “Did you sleep here all night?”
Anderson groaned. “It sure feels like it. Oh my gosh, I’ll pay for this.”
Burton replied, “Not exactly a smart way to start the day.”
Anderson glared at his friend and quipped, “At least you got to sleep last night.”
Burton responded, “Yeah, for the first time since I got here. And, I must say, it feels pretty-darn good.”
“Really?” Anderson muttered, as he made his way to his feet, every bone in his body aching and his head throbbing. He stretched to ward off the somnolence, as one of the triplets opened her arms and squawked out something he took to mean, Pick me up.
He scooped her up in his arms, buried his face in her tummy, and blew bubbles.
She squealed with laughter, setting the other two off.
Burton was laughing as he was trying to do the same thing with the other two babies, alternatively raising one arm with one baby and the other arm with the remaining baby.
When the trio of girls finally calmed down, the guys headed over to change the babies and to get them dressed. Anderson noted, “Why does any new father need to go to a gym and work out?” He muttered, “My arms have been killing me ever since I arrived here.”
Burton laughed. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I mean, all the things that people need for a full gym workout are right here,” he stated, with a nod toward the babies.
“Of course, not everybody’s having triplets, thank heavens,” Burton noted, with a chuckle. “I’m not sure I would have babies at all if I thought it would end up being three at once.”
Anderson gave a mighty chuckle. “I think it’s Mother Nature’s way of saying, Hey, fewer and fewer people are having babies, so some of you need to take one for the team, just to make up for the deficit.”
“Mother Nature can just get a life,” Burton retorted, “because that shit’s not funny.”
“And yet I think people are absolutely thrilled when it happens.” Anderson smiled and gave his buddy a pat on the back. “Talia sure was.”
“No, they’re thrilled for five minutes,” Burton countered, “then the reality sets in. That thrill is something that’s nonexistent for the next what? … Eighteen years? Oh God, can you imagine trying to pay for triplets to go to college?”
Anderson laughed. “You could be right. It does seem a bit of a cruel joke is being played on us right now.”
“Yeah, you’re not kidding.” Burton agreed, as they watched the kids playing.
The two guys were getting better at the whole changing-diapers thing, but they had to put one back in their crib to get the other two changed, both working as fast as they could.
Of course, as soon as one had a clean diaper and was put in their crib, Anderson picked up the second, while the third was in Burton’s hands.
Then a loud and smelly noise revealed that the first one had filled her diaper all over again.
Burton looked at her in astonishment. “How is that possible?” he asked in frustration. “It was a fresh diaper, lasting less than one minute. Must be some kinda record.”
“Yeah, it sure is. And I think she’s saying, Thank you,” Anderson teased, laughing.
Burton just glared at him.
“I know,” Anderson replied. “I know. Believe me that these little crappers appear to be overly efficient at filling their diapers. Un-freaking-believable,” he muttered, as he scooped her back up, laid her back down again, and checked to be sure. The aroma was unbelievable.
“Why liquid? Why? What the … Is this diarrhea? Why?” Burton turned to Anderson. “Surely this isn’t normal.”
Anderson frowned. “I’m not sure it’s normal or not for babies any way,” he admitted, “but the last thing I want to even contemplate is that they could be sick.” As he looked from one to the other to the other, he frowned.
“But look at them. They’re not acting sick.
” Then he asked, “We did get them back on that formula, right?”
“Right.” Then Burton groaned. “Of course it would affect their system. We changed their diet.”
“Exactly. And, in this case, affecting their system essentially means poop city.”
Burton shook his head. “Somebody upstairs is laughing at us right now.”
“I sure hope they’re laughing and not crying at the job we’re doing,” Anderson said, “because, man oh man, this is a little out of our expertise.”
“A little? I’ll go out on a limb here and say a lot.
And, boy, will you owe me after this,” he muttered, cleaning up one triplet.
They had put colored ribbons on their wrists to start trying to identify the babies, if not by names then by color, and also to pick up on individual characteristics or quirks of Lisa, Lana, and Lily.
Just then Anderson’s phone rang. He didn’t have a chance to answer it because he was elbow deep trying to change a diaper now.
Burton was cleaning up the dirty clothes and putting a fresh diaper on one as well.
As his phone stopped ringing, Anderson sighed. “Missed that call. If it’s important, they’ll call back.”
And, sure enough, the phone did ring again a few minutes later when they had the babies on the floor in the kitchen, scooching around on their butts and around various items, as if it were some smash derby.
He answered the phone, his voice a little breathless.
“Hello?” Sure enough, Pamela was on the other end.
“Hey, Pamela,” he greeted her, with half a smile.
“At least it’s you and not somebody else. ”
“Oh, am I not the enemy anymore?” she teased.
“I hate to say you never were the enemy.”
“No, I should have been the enemy,” she noted, her tone serious. “I mean, if for no other reason, back then you didn’t know who I was or what I was up to.”
“I’m still not sure I know what you’re up to,” he shared. “I thought you would have remembered me.”
A shocked silence took over her. Then she asked, “Oh my God, you remembered?”
“Yeah, it really is me,” he stated. “I recognized you right off the bat, but apparently I’m forgettable.”
“No, I would never call you forgettable,” she countered, her honest laughter blasting through the phone.
Burton eyed him steadily.
Pamela asked, “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I just did,” he pointed out. “Up until now, I wasn’t sure which side you were on.”
“I’m not on anybody’s side.” Then she stopped and clarified, “No, that’s not right. I am on somebody’s side, and that’s Talia’s.”
“In that case,” he said, his tone gentle, “I’ll accept that. The only other answer I would have approved of would be, I am on the babies’ side.”
“That goes without saying,” she declared, seemingly smiling.
At least he thought she was smiling. He detected a smile in her tone anyway. “So, does formula affect bowels?” he asked bluntly.
She paused at the sudden change of subject and then sighed. “Food will affect bowels, so if you got them back on formula again to supplement their diet, then it could influence their bowels. Why?”
“Because we’ve got”—he turned to Burton—“I don’t know, Burton. What’s a good description?”
“A tsunami of shit,” he declared with such a wealth of disgust in his tone that Anderson was hard-pressed not to laugh himself.
Pamela shared, “Ah, yeah, you’ve probably loosened their bowels with that change in diet.”
“Great. And how long will that take to solidify? Nothing quite like changing diapers, then turning around and changing them again, only to turn around and change them yet again,” Burton asked from the background.
She started to laugh. “If it’s any comfort, you’re not going through anything that parents all around the world aren’t going through on a regular basis.”
“That’s nice,” Burton quipped. “I am, however, not interested in what everybody else is going through,” he set forth, with a groan. “Right about now, things are feeling a little distorted, and I am not at all concerned about parents around the world or anywhere else right now.”
“Are the babies screaming in pain over it?” she asked curiously.
Anderson replied, “No, they seem happy as can be.”
“That’s a good thing,” she noted, “because diarrhea at least moves along the bowels. Constipation can cause them pain. So, if the system is moving, just chalk it up as a change in diet and keep an eye on it.”
“Keep an eye on it?” Anderson asked in horror.
“As in keep track as to whether it continues to be soft or if they’re improving.”
“And if they’re improving?” he asked, twisting to look at Burton.
Burton whispered, “Are we supposed to … write this down in a journal or something? What’s the protocol?”
“What is he whispering about?” Pamela asked. As soon as he told her, she started to laugh. “Oh my, I so wish I could see your faces right about now.”
“Me too, since, if you could see my face, you would be called upon to help us with poopy diapers,” Anderson stated, still laughing. “So, I’m not against that.”
She burst out laughing again. “Do I need to come over and check on them?”
“I don’t think so,” he muttered, frowning. “I mean, it’s just … Well, Burton put it succinctly. It’s a tsunami of shit.”
She laughed again. “Very eloquently put.”
“I don’t know about eloquent,” he muttered. “I mean, give me a bomb scare or a kidnapping or an assassination plot or something, anything, and I can knock it out of the park, but this? This is insanity. I mean, we’re going through diapers at a frightening rate.”
“Oh, you should probably put some ointment on them too,” she suggested, her tone turning serious. “You don’t want them to get rashes or sore bums from sitting in wet poopy diapers. Then you really will hear them scream. Plus, they need to be on ORS to keep them hydrated.”