No - No, Little Joe!
By
Peggy Janitz
January, 2002
“No-no, Little Joe. That’s hot. It will burn you. Ouch.” Adam screwed up his face in an attempt to show his baby brother how bad it would be to get burned.
“Come on. Play over here on the rug. See, here are some nice toys.” Adam walked behind the 18 month old, holding his hands up in the air as he steered him toward the desk on the other side of the room.
Adam had been left in charge of his smallest brother while his mother and father took his eight year old brother to see the dentist in town. At fourteen, Adam was a responsible child. Besides, he had the help of the family housekeeper, Hop Sing. Hop Sing seemed to spend most of his time in the kitchen, but somehow, he always knew what was going on in the Cartwright home.
Adam had been sitting at his father’s desk, trying to add up some columns of numbers. He loved to help with his father’s paperwork and was very good at it, too. But babysitting was his main job today.
Adam glanced up and noticed that Little Joe was no longer on the rug. Why doesn’t that kid stay put? Adam thought to himself.
“Little Joe!” Adam quickly scanned the room, but did not see his brother. Panic began to set in. Then he heard the giggle. He scurried over to the heavy wooden stairway and found his wandering sibling sitting on the landing. A big smile lit up the boy’s angelic face. The golden brown curls covered his head in disarray, falling into his hazel green eyes.
“Up, Damam. Up. Mama up.” Little Joe’s face turned serious as he turned his body around and continued to crawl up the steps on his hands and knees.
“No - no, Little Joe. Sorry, but Mama’s not up there. Mama went to town with Papa and Hoss. Remember?” Adam quickly climbed the steps and pulled his little brother up and into his arms.
He was met with protest. “No! Mama!” Little Joe tried desperately to get out of his brother’s hold. He wanted to go upstairs because that was where he had last seen his Mama, when he had been put down for a morning nap.
“Honest, buddy. Nobody is up there. Look, I’ll show you.” Adam carried his brother up to the bedrooms. He carried him into his parent’s room and with Joe in his arms, proceeded to look in every nook and corner. “See, Mama’s not here.” Adam hoped this would settle his brother.
“No! Mama.” Joe kicked his way down to the floor and ran out the door, straight to his own room. That was where he had last seen Mama.
Adam followed, getting a little tired of this game.
Little Joe ran around his room quickly as only a toddler can do. There weren’t too many places his mama could hide. He climbed up the side of his crib and looked inside. It was empty. He looked under the crib and found his teddy bear. He climbed on the spare bed kept in his room. Finally, he plopped down on the floor and let out a tremendous cry. “Mama, mama. Mama!” Huge wet tears fell on Little Joe’s red cheeks as his hand found it’s way into his mouth. He was a sad and sorry sight.
Adam had watched from the doorway in silence. But a crying Little Joe could not be ignored. Not when he got this loud.
Adam bent down to pick the distraught child up off the floor. His body was limp and offered no resistance. Adam wrapped the boy in his arms and made his way to the rocking chair. He sank into the comfortable padded rocker and rubbed his brother’s back. The see-saw motion of the chair was soothing. As he rocked, Adam started to hum a lullaby. The crying began to slow down and finally came to a stop. Adam felt the warm little body cling to his chest and watched as the head of tousled curls slipped down and began to nod in sleepiness. He could hear the wet sounds as Little Joe desperately sucked his thumb.
Wonder how much longer till Ma and Pa get back? Adam pondered as he began to think of all the other things he would like to be doing right now. His thoughts were interrupted when Hop Sing stuck his head in the doorway.
“Little boy okay? Hear much crying.” Hop Sing looked on in worry.
“He’s okay. He just wants his mama.” Adam sighed. “When are they gonna be home, anyway?”
“Father say not until late. Take Hoss to buy new boots and get haircut after dentist. Boy growing very fast. You and Little Joe need to eat lunch. Ready now.” Hop Sing turned and quickly returned to the sanctuary of his little kitchen.
Adam grimaced. He hated to wake his brother up. His brother was easier to watch when he was sleeping.
As if Joe could read his brother’s mind, the little tyke’s eyes popped open. “Damam. Down. Joe down.”
Adam smiled as his tiny brother squirmed in his lap. The child’s eyes were bright and happy, completely forgetting the anguish felt just moments before.
“No - no, Joe. No you don’t. Not until we change your diaper. I think somebody filled their pants. Pew.” Adam hated this job, but there was nobody else to do it for him today.
Little Joe could not be still when he was awake. His mother was the only one in the family who changed his diaper with any ease. She had learned over time, to have everything ready and close at hand. Because if you let go of Joe, he was gone. Adam was not as organized.
“Come on, Little Guy, lay still. I just want to clean your bottom. Oh dang, I forgot to get the washcloth wet. Stay right there and don’t move.” Adam let go of the wiggling child and turned his back for just a moment, to soak the cloth in the water-filled basin. When he turned back around, Joe was climbing down and off the other end of the bed.
“Bye-bye. Bye-bye, Damam.” Little Joe waved his little hand as his feet hit the floor. He ran quickly for the door with his little bare bottom waddling behind him.
“No - no, Little Joe! Come back here! We aren’t done yet. You have a messy bottom.” Adam’s face screwed up in distaste at the thought of his little brother’s messy bottom making it’s way through the house. Dropping the washcloth, he quickly ran for the door, blocking it just before the baby made his get-away.
“Gotcha!”
Holding his brother out and away from his body, Adam carried him back to the bed. Adam was a fast learner. He finished cleaning Little Joe, diapered him quickly and dressed the boy in clean clothes without ever taking a hand off of him. All the while, he kept up a non-stop dialog about all the things they were going to do when they got done.
Little Joe listened intently, almost forgetting to squirm. “Eat, Damam. Eat. Eat. Eat. Up. Joe up.” He reached for his brother and Adam knew that this meant he was to pick him up.
Smiles, giggles and laughter made their way down the stairs as Adam bounced his little brother on his shoulders. Each step was cause for more squeals of delight. When they reached the table, Little Joe was deposited in his high chair. Adam slid into his father’s chair, so he would be closer to his brother.
“Mmmmm, Hop Sing. It smells good in here. What is it?” Adam reached for the spoon in the pot and Hop Sing covered his hand.
“Hop Sing serve. Very hot stew. Beef, carrots, potatoes, onions. Very good for growing boys.”
As Hop Sing filled his bowl, Adam breathed the delicious aroma deeply. “I’m so hungry, I bet I could eat three bowls of this stuff.”
Adam watched as Hop Sing prepared a plate for Little Joe. He placed a small potato on the plate and using the side of a fork, cut it into small chunks. He did this with a small chunk of carrot and then used a knife to cut a small piece of tender meat into bite-sized pieces. Little Joe looked on with interest, his little fingers opening and closing in anticipation of the food.
Hop Sing placed the bowl of carefully prepared food in front of the small boy and handed him a silver spoon. Little Joe held the spoon in his right fist and picked up a piece of carrot with his left fist, stuffing the morsel into his mouth.
“No - no, Little Joe. Use your spoon, not your hands. Like this.” Adam held his brother’s right hand and tried to help him get some potato on his spoon. He was met with great resistance.
“Me do! Me do!” Squealed the small child as his whole body kicked in resistance. The spoon went flying, potato landed on the floor and Adam rolled his eyes.
“Fine, you do it.”
Little Joe calmed down immediately and contentedly picked the food from his plate with his fingers and pushed it into his mouth, causing much of it to stick to his cheeks and chin.
Adam tried to ignore the mess. He couldn’t understand how his little brother seemed to not mind having food stuck to his face. After two bowls of stew, Adam was full. After half the food on his plate, Little Joe was full. The child spent the rest of lunch time squishing and spreading the potatoes and carrots all over the tray of his high chair.
Adam cringed, but was happy his brother was at least quiet and content.
“Down. Joe, down. Down.” Little Joe was done with his lunch.
Hop Sing came just in time with a large wet cloth. In no time at all, the little boy was cleaned up and lifted from the trappings of his high chair. “If Adam done eating, go watch brother. Hop Sing clean up mess. Little boy very, very messy.”
“Sorry, Hop Sing. At least he was happy.” Adam quickly left the table. He didn’t want to let his brother get too far away.
As usual, the toddler was heading straight for something that was a “No-no”. This time it was his father’s pipes and humidor of tobacco.
Just as the canister was about to be pulled off the table, Adam grabbed his brother’s hand away. “No - no, Little Joe. This belongs to Papa. Your toys are over here. Come on.” Adam took his brother by the hand and led him to the bear-skin rug in front of the wood stove. Joe’s toys consisted of a few carved wooden animals, some wooden blocks, and several stuffed dolls made by his mother. These toys were not nearly as interesting as all the other things in the house, however.
Adam sat on the floor with his brother and pretended to make the wooden horses gallop up onto the blocks. Little Joe watched quietly, his face one of wonder. Adam continued his playing and stacked the blocks up high. Little Joe’s eyes gleamed with delight as he reached out and knocked the tower down.
“Uh-oh,” Adam said with surprise.
“Uh-oh,” mimicked his brother.
Adam built the tower again and again Little Joe knocked the tower down. Each time he laughed with delight and repeated the words, “Uh-oh”. This went on a dozen times, and each time it was greeted with the surprise of the first time. Finally, Little Joe tired of the game and began throwing the blocks across the floor.
“No - no, Little Joe. Blocks are for building. Not for throwing.” Adam retrieved the blocks and brought them back to the rug. But every time he brought a few back, Little Joe threw a few more across the floor. It was beginning to be a tiring game, not for the little brother, but for the big brother.
“I have an idea. Here, throw the blocks in here.” Adam presented Little Joe with a large wicker basket that had been stored behind the desk.
Little Joe seemed to like this idea. He filled the basket with all his toys.
Adam was delighted. His little brother seemed to be cleaning up his mess.
Joe stood up and tried to pick up his basket of toys. It was too heavy, so he dragged it by one of the handles. Adam watched as his tiny brother struggled to drag the toys across the room, to the area behind the settee. When he got there, Joe pulled with all his might and tipped the basket over, spilling all the contents onto the floor. The child then bent down and using his arms, scattered the toys as far as possible across the smooth wooden floor.
As Adam watched, his mouth
dropped open. Why is that kid so messy?
“No - no, Little Joe. Don’t make such a mess. Pick all the toys up and put them in the basket.” Adam moved over to where his brother was playing and began helping to put the toys away. Joe scurried around and picked up armfuls of items and tried to drop them in the basket. Most of the toys made their way to floor, once more.
“Mine! Mine!” Joe was adamant as he grabbed toys from his brother.
Adam didn’t mind. He was proud of the little boy. Maybe he was teaching his brother to be neat, after all.
But quick as a flash, Little Joe had once again dumped all the toys and then used his little feet to help kick them under the settee and bang them against the front door. He was fascinated with the way they slid so easily across the floor.
Adam was not fascinated with the game.
“No - no, Little Joe. You are making a mess again. Let’s pick all the toys up and I’ll take you outside to see the horsies. Okay?” This promise always seemed to motivate Joe more than anything else.
“Horsy, Horsy!” Little Joe squealed and jumped up and down, landing on some toys and falling to the floor. “Whaaaa!” Joe began to cry, again.
“You’re okay, Little Buddy.” Adam picked up his brother and began to rub his foot. “Bad ‘ole blocks, anyway. Bad blocks. Bad.”
“Bad bwocks,” repeated Joe.
Adam held his brother in his arms as he put all the toys into the basket. His back was beginning to ache. Maybe Little Joe is getting tired, he thought with hope.
Adam continued to hold his brother as they made their way out the door. Sometimes Little Joe played outdoors, but not today. Adam didn’t want to chase the child around the entire Ponderosa. There was just too much trouble to get into out there.
“Down. Joe down.” The toddler’s demand was clear.
“No - no Joe. Adam will carry you.”
“Joe down. Down!
“No. Let’s look at the horsies.”
Horses were an excellent distraction for this small child.
As Adam walked up to the corral, Little Joe’s eyes grew in size. He became still and quiet.
Champ was out in the corral today. Champ was an old, gentle work horse. Perfect horse for Joe to bother, thought Adam.
Adam could feel his brother’s grip on his neck get tighter as they came face to face with the old horse.
“Do you want to pet ‘ole Champ? See, just pat his nose real nice, like this.” Adam used his free arm to demonstrate how to touch the horse.
Joe reached out and touched the animal’s fur with his fingers. Instantly, he pulled his hand back and looked into Adam’s face.
“Horsy.”
“Yes, Joe, this is a horsy. His name is Champ.” Adam shifted the child into his other arm.
Slowly, Joe reached out again. Using his index finger, he poked at the animal’s eye. “Eye.”
“No - no, Joe. Don’t hurt the horsy. Be gentle, like this.” Again, Adam gently patted the soft nose.
“Eye.” Joe touched Adam’s eye.
“That’s right, guy. This is my eye. Where’s your eye?”
“Eye.” Joe poked a finger into his own eye.
“Eye.” Again, Little Joe reached for the big brown eye of the patient pony.
“That’s Champ’s eye. Where is Champ’s nose?” Adam questioned.
Joe bounced with some excitement. He knew the answer to this question. He reached out and banged the nose of the horse. “Nose!”
Adam took his brother’s hand and helped him to touch gently. “Champ has a wet nose.”
“Go bye-bye. Go bye-bye.” Suddenly the child’s body was kicking to get down.
Adam held on tightly. “Oh, I know what you want to do. You want to go for a horsy ride. Not today, cowboy. Maybe tomorrow when Papa is home.”
But Joe knew what he wanted. “Bye-bye. Horsy, bye-bye.”
Adam tried to get his little brother interested in petting the horse some more. He pointed out the ears, mouth and teeth. Little Joe, however, was not interested anymore. He wanted to ride the horse.
“No-oo! Bye-bye!” He kicked and squirmed until Adam decided to head back to the house. Just as he got to the door, Joe broke loose and slipped to the ground. The child lay out flat on the wooden planks and screamed as loud as he could. As he lay on his belly, he kicked his feet and waved his arms in the air. Little Joe was having one of the most amazing temper tantrums Adam had ever seen.
As Joe kicked and screamed, Adam crossed his arms on his chest, leaned on one hip and watched. From past experience, he knew the only thing to do was wait for the storm to pass. As he expected, his brother slowly ran out of steam and the crying and kicking subsided.
When Adam was sure the worst was over, he picked up his little brother. “All done, Little One?” As he held the child to his shoulder, he could feel the shuddering body and the wetness of his tear-filled face as it soaked into his shirt.
Joe continued to whimper softly as Adam opened the door and stepped inside the house.
Hop Sing greeted him. “What you do to little boy?”
“I didn’t do anything. He’s just mad ‘cause I wouldn’t take him for a horse ride.”
“Little Boy very tired. Need nap.” Hop Sing backed up to let the brothers enter the living room.
“Sounds like a good idea to me, Hop Sing.” Adam smiled in anticipation of freedom once his demanding little brother was asleep.
“Take boy to bedroom. I leave cup of warm milk on table. Little Joe drink milk, Little Joe go to sleep. Always work for Mrs. Cartwright.” Hop Sing scurried back to his kitchen.
Adam slowly shook his head in amazement of how Hop Sing always seemed to know what to do.
He carried his brother up the stairs, more slowly than usual. His legs seemed to feel very heavy. Sure enough, there was a cup of milk, along with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies. Adam smiled.
Sitting Joe on his lap, Adam helped him sip the warm milk. Between sips they nibbled on cookies. Joe’s eyes began to droop, until he could hardly keep them open. When the milk was gone, Adam used a napkin to wipe his brother’s face. He took off his brother’s shoes and his messy over-alls. Then he carefully laid him in the crib and covered him with a colorful quit. Joe turned to his side as soon as his head touched the mattress and began to suck his thumb.
“Night-night, Little Joe,” whispered Adam.
Adam was feeling a little sleepy himself, so he laid down on the spare bed. He stretched out on his back, with his arms behind his head. He yawned and closed his eyes, just for a minute.
The next thing Adam knew, his father was sitting next to him on the bed. He panicked as he tried to sit up. “Pa, I didn’t know you were home. Where’s Joe? I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Adam, Adam, calm down, son. Your brother is just fine. See, your ma has him.” Ben leaned back so Adam could get a good look at his brother.
There stood his beautiful step-mother, her long dark hair falling down her back. In her arms was a very happy baby boy. His bright face beamed with a delightful broad smile.
Just then, Hoss burst into the room. “Hey, Adam, glad you’re awake. Look at my new boots! Ain’t they great?” Hoss plopped down on the other side of the bed and propped his feet on the bedspread.
“Eric, get your boots off the bed!” Ben bellowed.
“Sorry,
Joe was inspired by the sight of his best playmate, Hoss.
“Hoss! Hoss!” he cried as his arms stretched out for his brother.
Marie laughed. “Yes, that’s Hoss. Where’s Adam?”
Joe dutifully stuck out his left arm and index finger. “Damam.”
“And who is this little boy?” Marie gently tickled the belly of her bundle of joy.
Without hesitation, Little Joe smiled and patted his belly.
“No - no, Joe.”
At first everyone looked puzzled, then they all burst into laughter. Little Joe looked at his silly family and laughed as well.
Marie walked to the bed and Ben pulled her and his son down next to him. Soon, the whole Cartwright family was sprawled across the bed, hugging, kissing and giggling.
The family was safe, happy and together. All was right with the world.
“No - no, Little Joe. Don’t pull Papa’s hair.”