1. Self-fulfilling prophecy
When I was pregnant with Monkey, I made the mistake of going shopping at Big Box Baby Store with DearDR.
DearDR is the type of shopper who is a browser. I am more like a hunter-gatherer shopper: I know what I am buying; I know where in the store it is; I’m going in, getting it, getting out. DearDR tends to wander — especially toward the DVD department in Target for example.
I have no idea what we were doing in the Big Box Baby Store on this particular trip. Maybe I was showing him what I had registered for; maybe we were picking out a crib and dressing table together. I don’t recall.
What I do recall is that we wandered into the clothing section. And DearDR saw this cute little onsie and hat. He wanted to buy them for our Bug, as we were calling her then.
I looked them over doubtfully.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Sure!” he answered. “They’re adorable! Why not?”
“I’m afraid that if we buy her these, then she will turn out to be one.”
He laughed. “I’m her dad. She probably will be one.”
And now, four years later, I have a child, that when she coughs, it looks like she’s having a conniption fit. Who screams or cries the instant she is told No. Who yells, “It’s not fair” when we can’t go shopping because her little sister is sleeping.
Here’s a picture of her, swaddled to the nines, with that hat that DearDR coveted so strongly.
2. I’m Over It. Really. No, Really.
After this, I promise to stop referencing my car accident — I mean, jeez, you know already, and I’m fine, no one got hurt, I got my car back all shiny from the new paint job, move on, already.
But when the weather is giving me a “wintry mix”, I drive like a little old lady. A little old lady who wears tri-focals and can’t see over the steering wheel.
It’s going to be a long winter. Especially for the drivers behind me.