A mother looks longingly into her baby's crying eyes in the middle of the night, and wonders what is wrong. She's tried everything, and nothing seems to work. She's fed her, nursed her, rocked her, walked with her, and wiped the baby down with a soft towel. Every attempt fails, and now the mother is exhausted.
She continues the relief attempt though her eyes begin to sag, and at this point she's not sure if it's the baby that needs relief or herself. The truth is, it's probably both. She puts her down, and she lifts her up. She rolls her over, and she let's her sit still. Sometimes there is a little sign of it stopping, but then like a roaring lion, the vociferous tumult begins again. The mother speaks out loud through her teeth, “What is wrong with you?”
Suddenly, the tiny infant lets out a man sized eructation, otherwise known as a “burp”, and instantly a smile is on the baby's face. The tears are gone, and there's no more crying. Laughter replaces screaming, and now the baby just wants to play for a moment before she instantly goes to sleep. The mother looks on in awe. She can't believe what just happened. If she had known that, she could have been asleep a long time ago! All that was wrong was a little gas? All that was wrong was a little bubble?
The writer is reminded of an old saying, “A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city: and their contentions are like the bars of a castle.” Sometimes relationships are like working with babies in the middle of the night. There's a bubble formed somewhere, and crying, screaming, weeping and wailing will continue until the eructation occurs. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?
Thanks for the euphamisms.
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