Uncle Marcel

All Beauregard men love babies. If you are a Beauregard man, carry that to its logical conclusion and don't even try to deny it. You love babies.

Papa was used to having babies in his life since his mother was having them regularly almost right up to the time when he moved away from home. Imagine his delight when, after five years of marriage the first baby finally came along. Marcel was the sun and the moon.

One story Papa told me about this first baby had to do with his bottle. Marcel was very attached to his bottle. They thought that when Bernie came along Marcel would be willing to give up his bottle, but alas, no. There were two bottles set aside for Marcel and the rest were for Bernie. Marcel could tell his apart (I'm not sure how, I know they weren't different colors or anything and they were all glass) and would have a fit if Mama tried to use one of his on Bernie. They respected his wishes but Papa told him to be very careful with his bottles because if they got broken they would not be replaced. Marcel understood and accepted this.

There came a time when Marcel was down to his last bottle. Papa had taken him for a walk and Marcel enjoyed his bottle on the way. On the way home, in front of the house next door to them, Marcel dropped the bottle and it broke. Marcel couldn't believe his eyes. He looked at that bottle for the longest time and finally said "broken" (I'm translating from the French here). He accepted his fate and continued walking up to and into the house.

At this point in the story, Papa got a little misty and said that he had to hurry into the house himself so that the neighbors wouldn't see him crying.


Marcel, with his long blond curls was a beautiful baby, I've seen pictures. The long curls did him in one day when a neighbor child marched up to his front door and when Mama answered the door the child said "Your little girl hit me". Mama said "I don't have a little girl". The child's incredulous reply was "Is Marcel a boy"?

One of the percs of being the oldest was manifest one winter evening when Marcel declared that there would be no "Lucy" in his living room when the Stanley Cup Playoffs were being televised. No one breached this edict.