What Do Baby Androids Dream?

Claire’s not an android.  That’s for certain.  But Holy Crap.  Babies have nightmares.  Three days ago Danielle and I were watching television.  Well, we watch television every day.  But, three days ago Claire was sleeping on the couch with me while we watched television.  Peacefully.  Until her eyes shot open and she screamed like she was being murdered.  I choked on a chip.  Now, I haven’t really read any baby manuals.  I mean, I’m alive and the product of thousands of generations of successful child rearing.  So, I assumed success was genetically assured.  And she’s still alive.  But, to the point.  If they don’t put baby nightmares in the manual, they should.  It nearly caused my death via chip inhalation.
Ordinarily I would post a picture of the event.  But, I was comforting the baby and trying to defeat a chip in mortal combat.  I know it’s a poor excuse and I apologize.  In an attempt to make up for it, here’s some pictures of everyday life from today.

Danielle and I got distracted with a conversation and Claire put herself to sleep on the bed.  That is exactly how I nap.  Pacifier and restrictive bundling included.

Cute baby sleeping picture number two; nuff said.

Me, in between rants at the various evening political punditry.  My rants soothe her.  No joke.  I don’t get it. 


The child carrier is for walking around out doors.  But, sometimes when the baby is fussy Danielle will put her in the human carrier.  Claire hates her carseat, but she loves that baby chestpack.

My parents cam and watched the baby today while Danielle and I went out to enjoy a meal.  I’m not sure what the discussion was about who got the baby and who got the cat.  But, my dad’s allergic, so I assume he lost.  But, really he won.  Because that cat does not sit in just any random person’s lap.  It’s really an enormous honor.  Also, the baby tends to spit up on people. 

Or, maybe the cat is getting soft.  Ordinarily, the dog’s violation of the cat’s relaxation space would have resulted in a flurry of furry fury.  Impotent rage, to be sure.  But, violent impotent rage.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s