Mummy is poorly sick, and Daddy is trying to help so that Mummy can feel better and stop malingering.
“I will get the baby dressed,” says Daddy, “you go and lie down for you are clearly so very poorly.”
“Thank you,” says Mummy and goes to lie down. Soon Daddy is back.
“In what shall I dress her?” asks Daddy.
In anything, thinks Mummy. “In a vest and some trousers and a jumper,” she says.
“OK,” says Daddy, for he is helping. “You go and lie down and get better.” So Mummy goes to lie down.
Soon Daddy is back.
“How do I know which vest and trousers and jumper?” enquires Daddy, “I do not know which ones fit.”
Mummy has organised all of the baby clothes in the wardrobe into clearly labelled baskets marked 0-3 months, 3-6 months, 6-9 months. The baby is 5 months old. She sees this complex system will be hard for Daddy to understand. It would involved looking, and Daddy does not believe in looking. So she gets up and finds Daddy the clothes he needs.
“Thank you,” says Daddy who is glad not to have had to do any looking or used any of his limited and precious supply of common sense. “You go and lie down, for you are so very poorly sick.” So Mummy goes to lie down. She is very poorly indeed.
Soon Daddy is back.
“In what order should I put the clothes on?” asks Daddy. Mummy has made the mistake of selecting clothes which can only go on in one order, which Daddy suspects is a trick. So Mummy goes and lays the clothes in order, with the nappy on top as Daddy will need that one first.
“Thank you,” says Daddy, “now you must lie down for you look terrible.” Mummy goes to lie down. Daddy can be heard huffing and grunting and straining a little, as he wrestles Rebel Baby into the easy-on clothes Mummy has selected for his convenience. Rebel Baby is squealing and laughing at him, for this is a game she stands a good chance of winning.
“You must do up more than one popper,” calls out Mummy. Daddy considers one popper perfectly sufficient – excessive, even – preferring to leave access open at all times in order to avoid any unnecessary effort.
“But why?!” protests Daddy, “We just have to undo them every time we change her nappy!”
“I will get up and do them then,” says Mummy with a sigh.
“No no,” insists Daddy, “I will do the poppers.” Mummy knows the real reason Daddy only likes to do one popper is that the poppers are a complex puzzle to Daddy, who always has one rogue popper left at the end and has to start again at least twice to get them all right. There is more grunting and squealing from the bedroom. Then silence.
“Is everything OK?” asks Mummy, suspicious.
“Ha! Yes!” says Daddy triumphantly, “She looks fantastic!”
Daddy sounds rather too jubilant for Mummy’s liking. It is disconcerting. Daddy appears in the doorway, holding his daughter proudly. She is smiling and clapping her little hands with joy.
It seems The Baby is, unexpectedly, fully and successfully clothed. However she also resembles… well…
Mummy is forced to vacate her sick bed for the morning and spend the next twenty minutes trying to massage Firm Hold Textured Hair Wax out of Rebel Baby’s hair with a hot flannel. Get well soon, Mummy.