Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 148949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
“Stop rushing me.”
A new song came on. The piano played a simple, yet elegant melody that moved at a relaxed tempo. Then, a soft trumpet accompanied.
“Alright.” Max looked down at Emilio. “Are you feeling that?”
Emilio gurgled. A little bubbled spit came out the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah. You like that.” Max placed the phone down. “There we go. And we were able to pick something even with your mommy’s bad attitude hovering in the background.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, I’m glad you finally found the proper song. We have to consider the priorities after all.”
“I wish you would stay in your lane.” Max rolled up his sleeves. “I don’t assess how you breast feed. Therefore, you don’t challenge my perfect execution of a diaper change.”
“You just take the dirty diaper off, wipe him up, and then put another one on.”
“And that’s why Emilio is always crying when you do it.” Max wagged his finger at me. “There’s an art to diapers. Watch.”
“Whatever.” I listened to the song and recognized this one. It was In a Sentimental Mood by Duke Ellington.
Max bobbed his head. “You and Kazimir never play music. That’s important.”
“Oh, really?”
“Ellington is a great choice when you want to add a touch of elegance to your diaper changing routine.” Max put his focus on Emilio and opened the dirty diaper. “Damn, nephew. You’re testing me today.”
Paolo pointed. “A lot.”
Max nodded. “A whole hell of a lot, P-dizzle.”
I groaned. “Max, we’re trying to teach Paolo English. You can’t keep confusing him with all these different nicknames you are giving him.”
“I haven’t set on one nickname yet. Therefore, I’m trying a couple out until one really sings to me.”
“I thought P was just fine.”
“P is not enough. It needs to have some flash to it.” Max winked at Paolo. “Isn’t that right?”
Paolo bobbed his head and went back to bouncing on the bed.
“Hmmm.” Max stared at him. “What about. . .Polo? Close to Paolo, but with that East Coast swagger. Polo?”
“Too close to his name. It might confuse him as he figures out Russian and English.”
Max turned back to Emilio. “What about P-Money?”
“Absolutely not.”
Clapping with the song, Paolo bounced on the bed.
Harlem let go of Paolo’s shoelaces and barked at him.
“Shh.” I smiled at them. “You both already shouldn’t be on the bed.”
“For real. We don’t want the lion coming up in here and roaring over Duke Ellington. That would be a crime.” Max smiled down at Emilio. “Alright. We are about to begin.”
“I should think so.” I leaned back in the chair.
Emilio squirmed and gazed past Max’s head.
“You know what.” Max looked up at the ceiling. “I bet he can see the notes.”
“And I bet his butt is on fire because his uncle hasn’t wiped the poop off it yet.”
“I’m ignoring you, Em.” Max winked at Emilio. “Don’t worry, nephew. I’ve got the song on repeat so you can really experience it.”
“Man, if you don’t change this diaper.”
Whistling with the melody, Max unfastened the diaper tabs. “Ellington wrote this in Durham, North Carolina in 1935.”
Emilio put his view on his uncle, appearing completely captivated with him.
“The Duke himself had just finished playing at a dance in some tobacco warehouse.” Max held Emilio’s ankles gently but firmly with one hand, and used the other hand to lift Emilio’s bottom off the diaper. “Afterwards Duke’s friend threw an after party.”
Paolo giggled with Harlem and collapsed to the bed. The puppy jumped on top of him and licked his face.
“But, dig this, Emilio.” Max kept Emilio’s bottom in the air and grabbed a moist wipe. “At the party, Duke is back on the piano playing, but his homey now got girl problems. Two chicks are fighting over his friend at the party.”
I quirked my brows.
Max began wiping Emilio. “One girl is on the left side of the piano. The other chick is on the right. Duke’s friend is in a tight situation. What is he going to do now that both ladies are there?”
What kind of story is this for a baby?
Max slung the dirtied wipe into the trash and grabbed diaper cream. “To keep the chicks from fighting, Duke began improvising a song in front of them. It kept them distracted. And that’s what we have right here. The song that saved his boy from getting his eyes scratched out.”
“Are you sure about this story, Max?”
“X told me. Later I looked it up.” Max gently slid the dirty diaper out from under Emilio and did a quick fold. “Yo, P-Train. Come over here and help me out.”
Paolo looked up, but didn’t move as if unsure Max was even talking to him.
I really wish he would stick with one nickname.
Max gazed over his shoulder. “Your job is up, P-Train?”
Paolo chuckled, rolled off the bed, and headed over.
Harlem hurried behind him.
“Yeah.” Max nodded. “P-Train might be the answer.”