The Stork Cometh: A Love Story
Two Souls Brought Together By A Dirty Diaper — Writing Prompt [128]
Brian scowled at the squalling infant in the hobo-sling swaddling bag. The sharp, acrid odor arising from the business end (as opposed to the ‘bottle end’) was truly an appalling stench. Worthy of any sewer rat.
He was eternally amazed by how one tiny, heaven-sent morsel of life could produce so much noise and such outrageous stinks. The mind boggles.
Brian laid the wee mite on her back on the park bench, shushing and singing bits of nonsense in a soft, lullaby-voice. This did nothing to stem the flow of outraged suffering. If anything, the child’s cries grew louder.
He gingerly unwrapped the dainty, hand-crocheted pink blanket and unsnapped the tiny, flower-sprigged onesie. His eyes watered at the pungent smell.
Brian blinked hard, trying not to gag. “I can do this,” he muttered.
He fished in his carry-all for lotion, wipes and a fresh diaper. Then, he carefully removed the offending article and stuffed it into a plastic-lined pouch for later disposal.
“Now, to wipe you all clean…”
The tiny girl squirmed and wiggled, kicking her legs at the indignity, hollering even more loudly. Brian wished for the umpteenth time babies came with a volume control.
Ignoring her screams, he folded the fresh, soft, cloth diaper and slid it under her little bottom. But the over-sized, pink, plastic-headed safety pins proved beyond him. He stabbed himself three times before he finally fastened one side, only to find she’d peed in the clean diaper.
All he could do was to unpin it, fold a new one and try again — with the same result.
After his second attempt, Brian sat for a moment, re-grouping.
He gazed around the tranquil little park. Everywhere he looked, mothers were enjoying the fresh spring air. Rocking their babies in prams, or chatting together on one of the benches while their toddlers clambered on the jungle gym, or played in the sand box.
“Don’t eat that, Robby — that’s dirty! No. Yucky!” As far as Brian could tell, Robby thought the sand was pretty tasty. He managed to stuff a mitt-full into his mouth before his mother could grab him.
Brian noticed a few dads huddled together, trying hard to look like they weren’t checking out the moms, while their various, also-male offspring tussled over a soccer ball.
“You look like you could use a hand.” A young woman perched beside Brian on the park bench, deftly pinned the diaper in place, and picked up the grizzling baby.
“Well, aren’t you the precious little one,” she crooned. “Look at you. Yes. You are. You are a precious little girl.”
She cradled the infant in one arm and slipped her into a fresh, floral-sprigged onesie. Then with the ease of long practice, she popped the infant back into the hobo-sling, tucking the pink blanket tenderly around her.
The baby gurgled and waved her tiny fists.
Brian was impressed. “You certainly have a way with little people.”
The young woman’s dark eye twinkled. “I have six brothers and sisters, all younger. You don’t forget how after helping with that many.” She ran a long-fingered, cafe-au-lait hand over her intricately braided corn-rows.
She had the most amazing hair Brian had ever seen. Where the braids ended near the back of her beautifully-shaped head, a halo of shining, crinkly curls flowed free in a glorious riot of ebony, chestnut, and amber, streaked through with copper and tawny gold.
He suddenly realized he was staring. He cleared his throat. “Thanks again for your help with the diaper. I was almost ready to give up.”
The young woman smiled, showing perfect, white teeth. “I’m Koneesha.”
“Sorry, where are my manners? I’m Brian.”
“Nice to meet you, Brian.”
Brian ducked his head. “Nice to meet you, too, Koneesha.”
The baby hiccuped. Brian could tell she was working herself up to another yell-fest.
“Well, I’d better get going again,” he said. “Before she does.”
The baby let out a few experimental squawks, then settled into a steady rhythm.
Koneesha smiled again. “Too late.” She raised her voice over the baby’s clamor. “I’m here most mornings, watching my nephew.” She nodded towards a little guy in a Spider Man tee-shirt hanging from the top rung of the monkey bars. “If he doesn’t kill himself.”
Right on cue, her nephew slipped. Hanging by one hand, hollering for help. Koneesha laughed. “Maybe you’ll stop by another time?”
Brian thought she had a wonderful laugh. “Well, um, yes. Yes. I could stop by — another time.”
“Good. I’ll look forward to that.” Koneesha trotted off to rescue her nephew.
Brian wondered, just for an instant, what might be if things were different. It was hard enough to meet someone, let alone someone as caring and lovely as Koneesha. And she did seem to like him, too.
But with his schedule — on call almost twenty-four seven… Still, if things were different…
Brian sighed. Onward.
He shook out his magnificent pinions and stretched them to their full length. Slid his long, strong beak through the knotted hobo-sling holding the still-squalling infant. “You’ll be home soon, ‘precious little one’,” he said.
He flexed his long slim legs and sprang aloft, beating his way skyward with strong, steady strokes.
As he flapped away in search of Nineteen-Twenty-Three Lamont Drive where his precious bundle’s expectant parents waited, he realized how very much he was looking forward to seeing Koneesha again. To think they’d met, all because of a dirty diaper. Funny old world. In the meantime, though, he had a job to do. And a company slogan to uphold:
“Storks Unlimited — Leave Your Difficult Deliveries To Us”
“Ah, well,” he thought. “A job’s a job. Still, life was so much simpler when people just found their babies under a leaf in the cabbage patch.”
