Remember: You are dashing into a convenience store, not checking out reference books at the New York Public Library. This is a three-minute operation, tops.
Some actions that ought be legal are not. Smoking pot, selling sex, and murdering an ex for not paying child support are but three. And while it’s not “illegal-illegal” to run into a convenience store to pay for gas while your baby stays in the car, it certainly doesn’t feel legal. At the very least, it’s frowned upon.
It shouldn’t be.
Before we continue, let’s pause for a moment and consider those poor parents who have forgotten their babies in their car, only to return ten hours later to find that the worst has happened. This is truly awful, and they have our empathy. Most important: It’s not their fault. The real problem here is that babies do not know when to cry. It would behoove them to learn.
How is it that babies can scream through the night but when you’re about to leave them in the hot car, not a peep? Do they even want to live? Why hasn’t the evolutionary process hardwired an “I’M IN THE BACKSEAT” scream into all babies’ DNA? It is a glaring omission that completely undermines Darwin’s credibility.
Plus, the only reason these parents forget their baby is that they’re in a fugue state thanks to three A.M. feedings of the aforementioned baby. Let’s face it, babies work against themselves and, like Democrats, are often their own worst enemies.
Unfortunately, the desire to prevent more tragedy has discouraged moms from engaging in the very practical habit of leaving one’s baby in the car for two freaking minutes.
To paraphrase Hobbes, running errands with a baby is nasty, brutish, and long. The smallest activities take forever. Each time you exit the vehicle, you have to open the back car door, unbuckle a five-point buckle that would drive even Rubik mad, and pull the baby out. You probably had to wake him up, too. (That’s the real crime.) Now your cranky, just-woken-up baby goes in either a stroller or a sling.
The stroller has to be removed from the trunk, unfolded, and popped open. One of the metal levers will stick—every time. The stroller’s hippie cousin, the wrap, comes with ropes, pulleys, and a useless instructional video. If you do succeed in securing your baby into your wrap, don’t get excited. You will never be able to replicate that sequence of events. Each time will be as frustrating as the first.
Then, when you’re done grocery shopping, the stroller must be folded up, the wrap unspooled, and the baby buckled back in to the car seat. Now it’s time to go to the post office.
And repeat.
Any instance when you can eliminate this brain-deadening process, do. Even just two minutes of convenience feels like a reprieve. This baby is strapped to you constantly. You are allowed to dart away for a quick cup of to-go coffee and dart back. It will save time and, for a few moments, you will feel light again.
How can you do it?
HIDE THE BABY. NOT FROM PREDATORS,
BUT FROM DO-GOODERS.
Do-gooders are actually more prevalent than pedophiles. In fact, they deserve their own registry. When you move to a new area, the police should have to tell you how many people in your neighborhood have unnecessarily called CPS. Luckily, at least one-third of all people loitering outside a 7-Eleven are wanted for a felony. They don’t want the cops stopping by any more than you do.
COVER THE BABY WITH A BLANKET.
Michael Jackson did it all the time. (By the way, this is the only parenting technique Sh*tty Mom will steal from him.) Now the sleeping baby looks like a load of laundry.
DON’T LEAVE YOUR KEYS IN THE IGNITION.
Oh sure: You live in the Midwest and that’s how you do things in Minnesota.
You are begging to have your car stolen. Stop being selfish and think for a second about this poor carjacker. All he wants is some wheels. He doesn’t want your baby. He can’t even afford to pay for his own babies—that’s why he’s stealing your car in the first place. He came to this 7-Eleven for a Slurpee and someone else’s car, and now he’s looking at kidnapping charges. That’s a potential death penalty case. Nobody wants that.
Remember: You are dashing into a convenience store, not checking out reference books at the New York Public Library. This is a three-minute operation, tops.