Over the last week we’ve had our fair share of visitors and food bringers. And, if they know what’s what, the visitors are always food bringers. My experience with well wishers has largely been that baby requires no place to sit as everyone wants to hold the Princess. Which is as it should be. So much so, that some were even willing to feed others in order to facilitate such. And, no I’m not talking about Mom feeding Princess Claire.
I’m talking about my dad feeding my baby sister so that she could enjoy her pseudo-daughter (more on that later; it deserves its own post). And, yes, photographic evidence is provided below. In fairness, Diana got off an international flight and came directly here to meet Claire. So, that merits special treatment. I suppose. Which is, I think, not quite to the level of feeding a child, say, in the shower to facilitate her intake of nutrition. I’m not naming names, you know who you are. And yes, I’m judging.
The point is the people’s general penchant for baby holding led me to make some mistakes regarding a place for a non-held baby at other locations. Like visiting my parents. So much so that it didn’t even occur to me to at least pack the boppy. A word I hate, but these are the sacrifices of a loving father. But, a product that is amazingly versatile. When we sat down to eat, all there was for young Claire was the car seat stationed conviently on the kitchen island. Two weeks old and stranded on a deserted kitchen island top by a careless father. I’m not sure I’ll chalk that up on the accidents board, but mistakes were definitely made. She took it well. But, when I figure out how to post a video, I’ll share the thirty second clip of our forty minute car ride home. Payback is a distraught baby.