Being a baby

So, I started this weekend in the search for A Plan. This is something of a recurrent theme in my life. I’m in need of several, so if you have any good ones to spare, I’m open to suggestion.

However, relevant to this post, I was trying to make plans with my cousin for the weekend. After being informed of the need to pay felicitations to Shao Bai (the female, large, black, short-haired Taiwan dog equivalent to Shao Hei, the male, long-haired, white little dog who has already made his appearance on the blog) for having nine puppies, I decided that since a visit to Kyoto for the cherry blossom festival would be impossible due to the lack of being able to get time off and tickets, I would go back to have some puppy therapy to cheer myself up a bit.

I called up my cousin to invite him along, and he suggested that he could try rounding up the wagons and figuring out plans. So I waited… and waited… and the day before it was time to go, I called him up, got no answer, and decided to get myself a train ticket while there still might be one left to take advantage of the long weekend.

He called me right afterwards and I told him of my setup. The gist of the conversation went something like this:

“You’re going to Tainan… ALONE?”

“Yeah, soooo? I am NOT a baby.”

“Well, yes, but you’re a baby to US.” (Just because he’s ten+ years older than I am, he gets to put on airs…)

“I am ** years old, have traveled Korea, lived on my own in New York, and am perfectly capable of going to Tainan on my own.” (Consider this said in my most teacher-y voice, the one with the steely-eyed look that only seems to make most of my students laugh.)

He conceded that perhaps I was right and would be okay.

The next day I had that return to the feeling of exhilaration and adventure which one only gets when hopping off on one’s own, and which lasted until my aunt rolled up to my rescue after the kindly intervention of the security guard at the bus stop.

Then I visited babies this weekend, nine of them, eyes barely open, rolling, and sliding themselves along the ground, sleeping, eating, and yipping (well, sometimes it sounded like a cross between a clucking chicken and a chattering monkey).

(My apologies for the following photos– I prefer cuddling them to photographing them. Here are my few shots on the not-so-blurry side…)

Holding a puppy in one hand, its little pink tongue out as it yawned, I did realize something over again… Though molly-coddling may be slightly stifling every now and then, there are benefits to being somebody’s baby. Even though all they may do is yip, creep, sleep, eat, and poop, they’re still seen as adorable. Babies are loved.

And sometimes it’s nice to not have to be the grown up in charge of cleaning up the mess, feeding yourself, and figuring out where the best ice cream is… But only sometimes.


4 Responses to “Being a baby”

  1. 1 mikan-san
    April 9, 2008 at 7:31 pm

    you and the puppy saga… ^_~

  2. April 10, 2008 at 2:50 am

    😀 They’re cute! Though I was a bit concerned when I was holding one and it was waving its head around looking for milk and ended up suckling my finger. Obviously, they still have a lot to learn, like… species differentiation perhaps…

  3. April 13, 2008 at 4:51 pm

    So cute! I love puppies.

  4. April 14, 2008 at 3:41 am

    Me too! They were just beginning to open their eyes. I hadn’t expected them to be so tiny. Thanks to 101 Dalmations, I kind of thought they would be born running all over the place…

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Free Rice

April 2008
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