Why Are You Crying?

I'll swallow your soul.

Why are you crying?

Are you hungry? Here, eat.

Why are you still crying?

Maybe you’re full. Let me burp you.

Why are you still crying?

Do you want to be put down?

No?

Held?

No?

Maybe it’s too quiet, let me put on some music.

Too loud?

I’ll turn the music off.

Wanna dance?

Sit still?

Jump in your jumper?

Sit in the high chair?

Practice crawling?

Play with that purple toy phone you’re reaching for?

No?

Oh, you want to play with the television remote!

No, that’s not it.

Ah! Your sippy cup! That’s it! You’re thirsty. Here’s your sippy cup.

Oh, you wanted to throw your sippy cup?

No sippy cup at all. I see.

You want my coffee? Ummm…

No. That’s a bad idea. Sorry.

Need a diaper change?

There’s nothing in this diaper.

Too hot? I’ll take your shirt off.

Too cold? I’ll put it back on.

Need swaddling? Here.

Can’t move your arms? I’ll remove the swaddling.

Want Mommy?

Want Daddy?

Want boob?

Want the other boob?

Want a bottle?

Want solid food?

Different solid food?

Oh, now your diaper’s dirty. You must have been upset because you needed to go. Phew! Glad we found the root cause. I’ll change your diaper now.

No, that wasn’t it.

Wanna nap?

Not sleepy?

Wanna swing?

Rock?

Go for a walk?

Sit still?

What if we play peek-a-boo?

Hide and seek?

Thermo-nuclear warfare?

Here’s a picture of a kitten using a toilet.

I can make up non-rhyming lyrics about how you will stop crying soon and sing them to the tune of “Eleanor Rigby?”

No. Okay.

Should I put on a silly hat?

Stand on my head?

Paint the car?

Make macaroni sculptures?

Here’s a martini made with bacon. It’s called a Bacontini.

No?

We can read Dr. Seuss.

We can read Peter Rabbit.

Berenstein Bears.

The Shining.

À la recherche du temps perdu by Marcel Proust.

What if I jump up and down?

Wear your bib?

Dress in your mother’s childhood tutu and sing slave hymnals?

What if I breakdance?

Perform oral surgery on a homeless man?

Discover cold fusion?

Find Bigfoot?

What if I amputate my arms?

WHY ARE YOU STILL CRYING???

I'll swallow your soul.

Oh. You just wanted to put my iPhone in your mouth.

Brad C. Hodson is an author and screenwriter living in Los Angeles. His novel DARLING is currently available. You can find his other work here.

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About Brad C. Hodson

I'm a writer living in LaLa Land. You may have read some of my fiction or seen a film I've written. If you're into horror, you may have stumbled across some of my darker work or dealt with me as the Administrator for the Horror Writers Association. Or you've probably never heard of me. That seems the likeliest.

View all posts by Brad C. Hodson

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