Chapter 77
“What’s the matter with Grumpy Gramps?” Mariah asked a few days later, indicating Paul, who was snoring on the couch in front of the TV.
Montana yawned, pouring coffee. “What’s the matter with both of us; we’re worn out. Michael was up all night with some kind of tummy bug and he didn’t go to sleep until about five this morning. I’m surprised the girls slept through it all and got off to school today.”
“Poor baby,” Mariah said sympathetically. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Michael or the lump snoring on the couch?” Montana joked.
Mariah laughed. “I meant the little baby upstairs.”
“He’s going to be fine. The doctor said to just keep giving Michael as much fluid as he can take and let him sleep. At least he quit spitting up so much and the diarrhea stopped too, thank God. I think I was changing diapers in my sleep at one point.”
“Where would he have gotten that?”
“I think he got it from Kira. She got sent home from preschool the other day with it. Then Grumpy in there had it and passed it to the baby. Lucky for us, Mac and I have been spared, at least so far.”
“Oh God, and we know what he’s like when he’s sick,” Mariah chuckled.
“Actually, sometimes he’s worse than Michael,” Montana nodded.
“I’m back!” Brian announced loudly, slamming the door. “Breakfast has arrived.”
“Fucking hell, Spanky,” Paul grouched, jarring awake. “Why not get a little louder? I don’t think anyone heard you.”
“Seriously,” Mariah added. “Good God, is all that noise necessary?”
“Got to make my presence known.”
“Well, do it a little quieter and not come in here like a team of horses. You’ll wake up the baby.”
“I thought I already woke him,” Brian grinned, gesturing at Paul. “He needs to get his lazy ass up anyway.”
“You’re an asshole,” Paul responded gruffly.
“I meant Michael,” Mariah said. “The poor kid was sick all night.”
“Yeah, and I’d like to see you clean up baby barf, change shitty diapers on the half hour, and listen to a kid yell until five in the morning,” Paul added.
“Jesus, PL, what did you do, give that kid your cooties?”
“Which Kira passed to me. It’s been a fascinating two weeks, to say the least.”
“Well, buck up, grumpy. Be a good boy and have a breakfast burrito. They made them fresh for a change.”
“If this and that coffee didn’t smell so good, I’d dump them on your head right now for being so damn cheerful.”
“Ahhh, nothing like having breakfast with a grouchy Mexican first thing in the morning.”
“Back at you, Spanky.”
“How is the little guy this morning anyway?” Brian asked.
“So far, he’s still asleep,” Montana replied.
“Yeah, be thankful Mikey didn’t wake up when you stomped in here bellowing or I would have kicked your ass,” Paul said.
“Sorry, dude.”
“How’d you rate getting fresh burritos anyway? Usually when I go down there, they give the ones that sat there for at least two hours.”
“Must be my charm and outstanding good looks.”
“Better get the shovels, Montana; it’s getting deep in here,” Mariah laughed.
“Hey, you weren’t objecting last night, Mimi,” Brian interjected.
“Dude, come on, some of us are trying to eat here,” Paul grunted. “We don’t need the sordid details of your sex life to ruin breakfast.”
Brian wolfed down the last of his burrito and let out a loud belch. Mariah glared at him.
“What?” he asked. “One would think you’d be used to this by now, Mimi.”
“Were you raised in a barn? Jesus, Brian. There are women in this place.”
“Be thankful he didn’t fart,” Paul replied. “Lord know how many times I’ve had to deal with that.”
“Shut up,” Brian yelled, tossing a couch cushion at him. Paul tossed one back in response, sparking a war.
“Hey,” Montana interfered. “I’ve talked to the girls about doing stuff like that; I don’t need it out of you two savages. Good grief, you’re grown men; start acting like it.”
“He started it,” Paul said with a mock pout, making puppy eyes.
“And you’re stopping it,” Montana responded, hearing sounds on the baby monitor. “Michael’s awake. Think you can go get him?”
“Oh lucky me. Wonder if I’m going to get puked on or shit on this time?”
“I don’t know; he isn’t fussing. That’s a good sign.”
“Okay, but if I come down smelling like puke or baby shit, consider yourself warned.”
Montana smiled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head, going to prepare a bottle in the kitchen.
A few minutes later, he returned with Michael, who was smiling.
“Looks like someone may be feeling a bit better,” Montana said, taking him. “Let’s try a little bit of a bottle to see how you do.”
“Butt’s still dry,” Paul replied.
“I guess whatever he had is finally out of his system.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” Paul sighed, plopping back on the couch to finish his breakfast.
Brian made a face. “Phew,” he said. “No offense, PL, but you need to hit the shower and some deodorant. You got some serious pit stink going on there.”
“It isn’t half as bad as yours after you use your dollar store Men’s Stick,” Paul retorted. “Talk about getting what you pay for.”
“Yeah, yeah. Seriously, man, you fucking reek. Go get cleaned up.”
“Not to mention that shirt could stand up by itself,” Montana added. “Go ahead, I can take care of the baby and clean up after I’m done with him.”
“Phew, since when did Mr. Anal Rententive let himself go the stinky route?” Brian asked, fanning the air.
“Since last night when the little one here was sick,” Montana said, picking up the baby to burp him.
“Well, I guess that is a valid enough reason. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen too often.”
“Of course not,” Montana laughed as Michael let out a tiny burp. “I have to wake up beside that thing every morning, remember?”
“Yeah,” Brian snickered back. “Poor you.”
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