Those Parents
"Ohmydog, we've become those parents..."
He reached behind his back and pulled out a toy that had since been lost in couch purgatory. The toy was still wailing a chipper lullaby and glowing with each beat. Shaped like a butterfly, he stared for a moment wondering how to turn it off. But there wasn't an off button, so we sat together momentarily, waiting for the song to end, all-the-while- smiling sheepishly at the notion that we were "those parents"
The cleaning never ends.
I always knew that, but once you have a kid, it is like Groundhog Day, everyday, as you walk around in circles picking up scattered toys and playthings. And every few steps you will smack into something and it will come back in harmony. Lights will flash as I curse quietly at the throbing pain in my toe that has just stepped on an oddly-shaped rattle.
Not moments ago, in fact, I stepped on a teething ring that vibrated under the weight of my foot.
Scared the Beejeezus out of me....
I love all these colorful things.
As my daughter naps quietly in another room, I scan the area that looks reminiscent of a daycare center.
Amongst all the Fisher Price carnage is a Kohl's magazine, now in tatters and drooled on. I look at the coupon Sayler has 'clipped' from it and wonder whether if I can salvage it for some savings at the department store...
(*sigh)
Amongst all her brightly-colored things, lately it is the paper she wants to tear into. Anything that seems forbidden to touch is now among her favorite toys. She has also taken a recent liking to chewing on my Blackberry and the remote control, too....
We are those parents.
We are the parents of a child who reaches for all the things we dont want in her mouth but smile through it.
We are the parents who take too many pictures and can't choose a favorite....
(...And there are at least 100 of those pictures within reach on the cell phones to show any and all passerbys including the lady working at Costco giving away samples of nuts.)
We are those parents who try to steal an hour or two to ourselves and then spend that entire time talking about our baby.
We are those parents that will suggest all the things our daughter will someday do, based on the silliest indicators.... if she grabs her leg and rolls, she will be a gymnast, if she coos in soprano she should be on "X-Factor", if she reaches for the broom she might play Quidditch....
We're so annoying and yet have no idea how to stop being annoying...
And we are those parents that willl settle into a couch long after our baby girl has gone to sleep, attempt to get comfortable and then suddenly hear our asses break out into melody.
No.
Not that kind of melody.
The melody that comes from a butterfly-shaped toy that somehow broke free from my daughter's perfect hands and took a vacation under a couch cushion....
We are those parents....
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