b Papa Dog's Blog: Potpourri for $800, Alex

Papa Dog's Blog

A Thing Wherein I Infrequently Write Some Stuff

Monday, September 20, 2004

Potpourri for $800, Alex

Wow, 50 consecutive posts. It won't actually be fifty days until Wednesday, because there were two days when I did two posts, but still. Who'da thought?

Being anywhere without baby: As mentioned, we went to the Infant CPR class, and I think we both learned a lot. I had no idea how much anxiety I was harbouring on the subject of What To Do About Choking until I learned the answer. I guess I don’t really notice anxiety until it’s been relieved. I don’t know if that makes me a lucky chap or a potential disaster area. Very big thanks to Mama and Papa Pirate, who looked after our wee one while we were out. It was the first time since her birth that Baby Dog has been more than a room away from either one of us, so it was cause for much and noticeable anxiety. We limited ourselves to calling twice during the three-hour period we were away, and I think that was doing pretty well. She was just fine while we were gone, of course. Had a nap and a bottle and only spent part of the time screaming.

Mysteries of babywear: Some of Baby Dog’s clothes, we’ve noticed, have pockets. Back pockets on one garment, a breast pocket on another. Let’s review here. She’s three months old. What does she need a breast pocket for? Her pens? Her reading glasses? Is she supposed to keep her ID in her back pocket? I know. These are for show only, to make parents think the outfits look all the more adorable, but still I can’t help thinking there’s some baby clothing designer out there perilously unclear on the concept.

Better still, Mama Dog found this here item today. Yes indeed, that’s what we need. $188 worth of cashmere for somebody who doesn’t know how to keep her food in her mouth.

Dick Cheney's 3-D House of Spin: This morning, thinking about nothing in particular on the BART platform, I was struck with a perfect press conference question for President Cheney. It goes like this: “Mr. President, in the light of day, after the cock has crowed thrice, when you’re lying in your coffin on the bed of your native soil, do you seethe with hatred for all the living, or just the ones who are not rich white straight males?” Unfortunately, I’ll never be in the White House Press Corps, so I don’t imagine I’ll ever have the chance to ask. Maybe Helen Thomas could give it a whirl.

Office Visit: Baby Dog came to visit the office this afternoon. The two people who had actually asked if I was going to bring my wee bairn to the office could not, of course, be found. Still, it was strangely enjoyable making a circuit through the maze, causing work to come to a screeching halt wherever we went. Also, this was Baby Dog’s first visit to an office other than a doctor’s office, so I felt I should point out to her that this is probably what her future’s going to look like. Maybe by the time she’s old enough to be penned up in a work farm they’ll have thought up something even worse than an open cubicle arrangement, but I wanted to give her the general idea. Mama Dog had to hurry to beat the Bay Bridge traffic, so the tour had to be quick. They were there just long enough for my arms to be aching from schlepping the carseat around. Then I had to go type some more about dirt.

2 Comments:

Blogger Brownstein said...

Though the TSA does not yet require that children under the age of 18 carry ID, I suspect that there may be some functional anticipation of this eventuality in the design of baby-clothes.

Consider the TSA's guidelines for travelling with children -http://www.tsa.gov/public/interapp/editorial/editorial_1020.xml] and ask yourself how long before infants must be retinally scanned to prove that they aren't, say, Osama bin Laden.

Recognize also that infants are not to be placed through the x-ray machines, which, I suppose, means that someone once tried.

12:07 PM  
Blogger chi_town_chica said...

Just so long as she doesn't think the back pockets make her ass look big.

6:35 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home