What is it you want?

Is it food? Are your new teeth hurting your gums? Are you bored? Are you having growing pains? Is your stomach upset? Did you hurt yourself? Did I?

Why are you crying? What magic conjuration can I come up with that will find out what you need? Should I sacrifice a goat? A chicken? A republican?

I fed you. I burped you. I put you in a different onesie, with a less obnoxious pattern. I rubbed orajel for babies on your tiny gums. I gave you tylenol, and then you spit it out. I rubbed your tummy. I flipped you over and rubbed your back. I told you you were special and different from all the other babies out there. I sang you a song.

I tried the Jedi mind trick. The Vulcan mind meld. I tried getting in touch with my ancestors and begging their help for this fussing child. I drew runes on my forehead with eyeliner and prayed to Tiamat the dragon god. I talked to you in that silly voice that I hate but you seem to like for some reason. I swung you around and up toward the ceiling. That just made it worse. I tickled you. I swaddled you. You kicked until the swaddle blanket flew off and landed in the shape of a sad face. I rocked you. I bounced you on my knee. I held you close and hummed like the woman in Lady and the Tramp.

I gave you teethers, you spit them out. I gave you milk, you horfed it up. I gave you toys, you cast them aside, shaking your fists with fury.

What is it you want?

Oh wait…did I check your diaper?

Oh. Ok. That was it.