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Billy and the Bratty New Baby
Read by Angela James
Full Text
"Billy and the Bratty New Baby" by Jeremy Frank
Billy liked his routines. A night wasn't a night unless he put on his favorite rocket ship pajamas, shuffled over to the kitchen to get some cookies and a big glass of milk, and then lay down on the couch and watch whatever was on TV that had explosions. His routine was like clockwork. The carpet was actually worn down from where he had shuffled over it so many times. As he poured his milk and closed the refrigerator door, he nearly collided with his parents who were standing in the doorway. They each seemed to be trying to contain a smile so powerful it might have just caused their heads to rocket off their shoulders.
"Billy, we have a surprise for you!" said his mother, squeezing his father's hand.
"You're going to move out of the way so I can get by?" he asked.
"No, there's going to be something new in this house very soon."
"We're getting a new TV?!" he asked with great enthusiasm.
"No, even better—"
"Two new TVs?!"
"There aren't any new TVs!" she snapped, then regaining her calm, "You're going to have a new baby brother or sister! Aren't you excited?"
Billy thought about this for a second. "Is it too late to get a TV instead?" As Billy stared at his ceiling, having been sent to his room for, as his mother put it, "not sharing in the joy", he realized that his new sibling hadn't even been born yet and it was already nothing but trouble.
The following months were no better. As he grew a respectable inch or so vertically, his mother grew more than a foot horizontally. It was also a time of disappointments. Every time his father made a late-night run to the supermarket, it was always for pickles and ice cream for his mother. Not once did his father get him surprise fudge, perhaps the best kind of fudge there is. The house was full of new furniture like cribs and dressing tables and his parents would often come home with bags full of tiny clothes for the baby. Nobody offered Billy any tiny clothes, not that they would fit, but he would have certainly appreciated the offer. Worst of all, he admitted to himself, was that his parents didn't seem to have time for him anymore. He wondered if it would be this way forever, since the baby seemed to need so much attention even before it was born.
The anticipated day finally arrived when his mother was taken to the hospital to give birth. Billy was stuck at home with a babysitter all night, left to wonder what was going on. He was sure the first words out of the baby's little mouth would be "I'm cuter than Billy! Love me more!" He couldn't stand the idea. Hearing the car pull up in the driveway, he slinked away and half-hid behind a chair, waiting for his new enemy to appear. His mother walked uneasily through the door and sat down on a chair. On her lap was...something. It was bald, drooling and had a pretty big head. Billy thought it kind of looked like an alien.
"Is that it, then?" asked Billy, clearly unimpressed.
She didn't break her gaze away from the child. "Shh, the baby is sleeping."
"Sleeping? Why is it tired, it hasn't done anything today! I think it's just lazy. Speaking of which, is this thing going to help out around the house? I mean, what do one of these 'babies' actually do?" At that exact instant, the baby made a horrible, wet sound and let of an even more horrible odor. Billy, who loved a good potty joke, fell to the floor laughing. "That was hilarious!" he cried.
"I'll go get a clean diaper. Billy, can you hold the baby?"
"Hold the—what? I don't know anything about babies!"
"But he's not just a baby, his name is Miles and he's your brother now."
"My brother...wow. So, you mean I'm in charge of him?"
"Sort of," she explained, "You get to help keep him safe and teach him everything he needs to know"
"Like how to shoot milk out of your nose?" he asked.
"I suppose."
Billy looked down at his little brother, who smiled at him warmly with love in his eyes. Then he spat up on Billy's shirt, and Billy thought it was slightly less funny. "The first thing I'll teach you," shuddered Billy, "is how to throw up on OTHER people."
Billy liked his routines. A night wasn't a night unless he put on his favorite rocket ship pajamas, shuffled over to the kitchen to get some cookies and a big glass of milk, and then lay down on the couch and watch whatever was on TV that had explosions. His routine was like clockwork. The carpet was actually worn down from where he had shuffled over it so many times. As he poured his milk and closed the refrigerator door, he nearly collided with his parents who were standing in the doorway. They each seemed to be trying to contain a smile so powerful it might have just caused their heads to rocket off their shoulders.
"Billy, we have a surprise for you!" said his mother, squeezing his father's hand.
"You're going to move out of the way so I can get by?" he asked.
"No, there's going to be something new in this house very soon."
"We're getting a new TV?!" he asked with great enthusiasm.
"No, even better—"
"Two new TVs?!"
"There aren't any new TVs!" she snapped, then regaining her calm, "You're going to have a new baby brother or sister! Aren't you excited?"
Billy thought about this for a second. "Is it too late to get a TV instead?" As Billy stared at his ceiling, having been sent to his room for, as his mother put it, "not sharing in the joy", he realized that his new sibling hadn't even been born yet and it was already nothing but trouble.
The following months were no better. As he grew a respectable inch or so vertically, his mother grew more than a foot horizontally. It was also a time of disappointments. Every time his father made a late-night run to the supermarket, it was always for pickles and ice cream for his mother. Not once did his father get him surprise fudge, perhaps the best kind of fudge there is. The house was full of new furniture like cribs and dressing tables and his parents would often come home with bags full of tiny clothes for the baby. Nobody offered Billy any tiny clothes, not that they would fit, but he would have certainly appreciated the offer. Worst of all, he admitted to himself, was that his parents didn't seem to have time for him anymore. He wondered if it would be this way forever, since the baby seemed to need so much attention even before it was born.
The anticipated day finally arrived when his mother was taken to the hospital to give birth. Billy was stuck at home with a babysitter all night, left to wonder what was going on. He was sure the first words out of the baby's little mouth would be "I'm cuter than Billy! Love me more!" He couldn't stand the idea. Hearing the car pull up in the driveway, he slinked away and half-hid behind a chair, waiting for his new enemy to appear. His mother walked uneasily through the door and sat down on a chair. On her lap was...something. It was bald, drooling and had a pretty big head. Billy thought it kind of looked like an alien.
"Is that it, then?" asked Billy, clearly unimpressed.
She didn't break her gaze away from the child. "Shh, the baby is sleeping."
"Sleeping? Why is it tired, it hasn't done anything today! I think it's just lazy. Speaking of which, is this thing going to help out around the house? I mean, what do one of these 'babies' actually do?" At that exact instant, the baby made a horrible, wet sound and let of an even more horrible odor. Billy, who loved a good potty joke, fell to the floor laughing. "That was hilarious!" he cried.
"I'll go get a clean diaper. Billy, can you hold the baby?"
"Hold the—what? I don't know anything about babies!"
"But he's not just a baby, his name is Miles and he's your brother now."
"My brother...wow. So, you mean I'm in charge of him?"
"Sort of," she explained, "You get to help keep him safe and teach him everything he needs to know"
"Like how to shoot milk out of your nose?" he asked.
"I suppose."
Billy looked down at his little brother, who smiled at him warmly with love in his eyes. Then he spat up on Billy's shirt, and Billy thought it was slightly less funny. "The first thing I'll teach you," shuddered Billy, "is how to throw up on OTHER people."