Tag Archive | kids

WARNING: Infants.

I didn't have my camera, and my phone takes lousy pictures, so you get to see the sign in it's original packaging.

As I was walking through the parking lot to the bus stop on my way home from class today, I spotted a car with a sign in the window that read “Caution! Baby Inside”. The image was what appeared to be a giant floating head over a banana (a quick internet search when I made it home told me that I was right about the banana, at least, but the sign didn’t specify a baby what.)

The sign made me think of nothing so much as the notices placed on cages that transport animals of various degrees of domestication from place to place, and I had to wonder: What is so scary about babies that I need to be cautious? If I got too close to the car, would it growl at me? Would it snap at my fingers if I tried to pet it? If I feed it my peanuts or bread crusts would it become too used to adults, and start following random people around begging for food? (Come to think of it, that may have been what happened with my 15 month old nephew, E.)

I then started to wonder what a dangerous baby was doing being left alone in a car in a college parking lot–sure the caretakers could have removed the infant and left the sign, but that would be irresponsible–why make people worry about being attacked by a baby when there is no baby present?

The day was chilly, bordering on cold, so I wasn’t worried about the baby overheating–but I wasn’t going to check on it if I was being warned of it’s presence. But still, should I notify someone that there is a dangerous infant alone in a car? Surely whoever is responsible for those types of situations would be trained in how to deal with dangerous creatures, such as the baby we were being warned of. But what if it wasn’t there? Would that mean that it got loose? Is there a baby wandering around campus, savaging innocent students as they study or wait for their classes? What if it was in the bushes surrounding the bus stop? What if it had its sights set on me?

Fortunately, at this point in time, my bus came, and I managed to make it home without being attacked by a rabid toddler.   I’m going to make sure to lock my doors and windows tonight, though, just to make sure no infants get into my house. Because, from what I hear, once you have a baby, there’s no getting rid of it.

Do YOU know Jack?

So, I probably should write something for today.  I mean if I have to.

Besides deciding that I have an unnatural affection for my carpet shampooer, (seriously, what did I ever do without it?  Even before I had dogs?) today’s been pretty quiet.  My hip has been aching, to the point that the pain causes nausea, so if I took anything, it would mean that my hip might feel better, but I’d be throwing up.

I decided to elevate my leg and ride out the pain.

I was thinking, though, about something that happened last Sunday, and Sis’s house.  It’s a cute story, so I thought I’d share.

While I was in hiding, the door to the room opened, and a four-year-old with the prettiest auburn curls peeked in.  It was my bro-in-law’s nephew.  Max, fully aware that I didn’t want to be bothered, started growling at this little person with grabby hands, while Lulu ran up for loves.  The nephew came in, and I talked to him about the dogs for a while.  He then decided he’d had enough, and went to leave.  As he disappeared out the door, I called him by name, and asked him to shut the door, please.

He poked his head back in the room, and, with a big grin on his face, asked “How do you know my name?”

I had kind of explained who I was when we were talking about the dogs, but I re-introduced myself as “Aunt [Sis’s] sister.”  I told him that his Uncle [B-I-L] liked him, and talked about him a lot, and that’s how I knew who he was.  This satisfied him, and he disappeared again.

A few minutes later, he came back.  “Do you know EVERYBODY?” he asked

“No, just you and [I listed the names of his siblings]”

“I know two Jasons.  Do you know two Jasons?”

“I know one Jason, but I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“Do you know Jack?”

Please note my self-control in not getting snarky and vulgar with a four-year-old.

“I don’t know anybody named Jack.” I said.

“Jack is my friend.”  He then proceeded to tell me all about his friend Jack.

While this was a super-cute encounter, I don’t generally know how to handle myself around kids.  I guess having two fluffy dogs and knowing their names means I’ll have to start learning.

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