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Dior was on the verge of tears as she rocked her son while holding a bottle in his mouth. Donna was at work and it seemed that all the little boy did was cry. Or should I say screamed at the top of his little lungs?
“What? What is wrong?” she asked, exasperated.
She’d changed his diaper, rocked him, burped him and bathed him. She was running out of things to try. She took the bottle out of the baby’s mouth and replaced it with a pacifier. He sucked on the pacifier for a few seconds before he spit it out and started to scream again.
“Oh my God.” Dior sighed as she laid him down on her bed.
She moved him towards the wall and went downstairs, leaving the baby alone and crying. She poured herself a cold glass of Kool-Aid and sat down on the couch and drank it, blocking out the cries of her son. She turned on the T.V. and watched the Late Night Show until it sounded like the baby had stopped crying. She went back up the stairs, and sure enough he had cried himself to sleep.
She covered him with another blanket and went and got into Donna’s bed, not wanting to wake up the infant.