It may happen some fine day that you will be asked to dress the baby, so you might as well learn how it is done.
First you must catch your baby. Having located him in the wardrobe or under the bed you lure him into the open by promising bic-bics. Then you place him, face downwards, across your knees and clutch him firmly with both hands. With your other two hands you draw his nightdress up as far as his head; since you haven't opened the buttons it won't go any further. Next you open the buttons and draw the nightdress up again. This time it will go right over his head and stifle his howls. Be careful, of course, not to stifle the baby.
When the nightdress comes off you will find that you have lost control of the baby for the time being, so you must catch him again. This should be done, if possible, before he reaches the floor.
Now we are ready to make a start. Take the first of the foundation garments and slip it twice over the baby's head; once before you remember to open the buttons and once for keeps. He will do his best to keep you from slipping his arms through the arm-holes, and will try to make new arm-holes where only small tears exist at the moment, so you must be brusque, brisk, and brutal. Next you re-fasten the buttons, a job which is about as easy as putting in dress studs when you have boxing gloves on, but if you stick at it you'll manage it after a while. The only real danger is that while you are occupied with the buttons the baby may fall from your knees. If he does you simply replace him and sing at the top of your voice. If you can't sing keep your hand over his mouth.
Practically the same technique is used with the five other woolly vests, the six bodices, and the three jerseys which protect the infant from the icy blast, except that the further you get from his skin the less scrupulous you get about the buttons.
The trickiest part of the whole business is the adjusting of the one garment which does not go on over the baby's head. This essential and serviette-like covering, suitably folded, is attached to four of the woolly vests with two enormous safety-pins. At the first attempt you will probably attach it to the baby, but if you don't draw blood the slip may never be noticed - except, of course, by the baby. You must be careful, however, not to attach it to your own person, as adults are much more sensitive to pain.
When you have got on the baby's clothes you proceed, if you are still capable of muscular co-ordination, to put on his socks. Some authorities recommend you to put the baby on his back during this operation, but if you do you should be careful, for though a baby is only a baby a kick in the mouth is always a kick in the mouth. A better way is to grip the child, still in your lap, with your elbows and stomach, and lodge one of his ankles between your tensed knees. This renders him comparatively helpless and leaves you free to give all your attention to the sock.
There is not much bother in putting one sock on, or even in putting the two socks on: the whole bother is keeping them on. Whilst you are drawing the second sock into position the owner is pulling off the first, and by the time you get the first on again you will find him chewing the second.
This clash of wills might go on interminably, but after a decent interval you tether the baby to the leg of the bed with your neck-tie and make a short speech from the landing. Does anyone in the house realize that you have a job to go to? Will someone please come upstairs and finish off the baby? (Of course this isn't what you mean: you only want someone to finish his dressing.)
Then you go into the bathroom and cut yourself shaving.
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