The Parents' "Maybe" Conversation

The Boy has been waking up in a screaming fury the past two nights for no discernible reason. At fifteen months old, he can't tell us what the problem is, so we have to go all Sherlock Holmes and see if we can figure it out. Problem is, in the middle of the night, our keen powers of observation are, well, not so keen. We're both fairly blind (shout out to the stigmatism crowd). And we neither of us wake up in a crisp state of coherence. At least we're not alone...I get the impression that most parents of young children are like this. So, I present to you the conversation that I believe every couple has during a child's nocturnal screamfest:

Parent 1: Just ignore him. We can't go in or he'll think we'll come in every time he squeaks.

Parent 2: I am ignoring it. (Places pillow over head. Takes pillow off head after a minute.) Is he still going?

Parent 1: Yeah; I think it's worse. (Sighs.) Do you think he's hungry?

Parent 2: No...he had a six ounce bottle before bed. And he had a good dinner before that.

Parent 1: Maybe he's going through a growth spurt and he's hungry again.

Parent 2: That doesn't sound like his hungry cry. It's definitely not that. I think.

Parent 1: What about his diaper? Do you think he's wet?

Parent 2: Maybe. But he's normally OK with a wet diaper. He's only upset if it overflows. And even then he doesn't care half the time. I don't know...maybe he's overtired.

Parent 1: How could he be overtired? He was asleep. Why would he wake up, then scream because he was tired?

Parent 2: How am I supposed to know? I'm just throwing out ideas. (Rolls over.) Do you think he has a cold?

Parent 1: He has been a little sniffly. But the temperature's changed this week, so maybe it's just a seasonal thing. Could be allergies.

Parent 2: Yeah, see, I thought the sniffles were because of teething. Maybe I should go give him some Tylenol. (Sits up and pulls back comforter.)

Parent 1: But if it's a cold and he has a fever, the Tylenol's just going to mask it. So maybe we should hold off on that.

Parent 2: (Sighs. Lays back down.) He's going to have laryngitis. He can't even talk, and he's going to have laryngitis.

Parent 1: Maybe he's too hot in the fuzzy sleeper. Or maybe when the heat kicked on, it woke him up and he's confused.

Parent 2: Maybe. (Sounds doubtful.) I don't know. I wish he could tell us what the problem was.

Parent 1: Yeah, but when he can talk, he'll call us by name and that'll be harder to ignore.

Parent 2: I suppose. Hey, do you think he lost his pacifier?

Parent 1: No, I heard in sucking it in between screaming fits.

And...scene. Truth is, this conversation would truly capture parental exasperation if it repeated itself at least six more times. If you're on tenterhooks about the Boy's status, I do believe he's teething. We dosed him with Tylenol, and after about twenty minutes of righteous indignation, he drifted off to a deep slumber.

I love Tylenol.