Momma came back and wiped my hands with a damp dishtowel that had obviously been used to clean Gino after he had eaten. The towel was prestained with large blotches of orange and green. For a moment I envied Gino’s taste in food; at least he liked vegetables, and green peas and squash were his favorites! My taste ran more toward rare steak and baked potato with chocolate cake for dessert. I tried not to think about dinner, the very thought of never eating anything but baby food for the rest of my life made me want to cry.
When she had finished wiping my hands, momma folded the dishtowel to a clean spot and wiped my face. Then she lifted me from the high chair and carried me back to my playpen before handing me my bottle of formula.
