Some years ago, my friend and her baby daughter joined me for a visit to Denver’s historic Lakeside Amusement Park. It didn’t occur to me to offer help with the baby in any way since I was oblivious and thoughtless. My friend said she needed to stop in the restroom and she turned to me, and with a smile, thrust her baby into my arms.  My headed almost exploded.  I was pretty sure the child would not survive this encounter.  Or me.

I fumbled with the infant as my friend turned on her heel and walked away. Since I was a woman who probably looked to her like a grandma, all her mommy instincts told her it was 1. Fine to trust me and 2. I would enjoy this. I spent the 4 minutes outside the bathroom saying, “Hi, baby, hi baby,” a few times, and looking around me for a back-up caretaker in case I blacked out.  All was well and the mother retrieved the child, looking, I thought, disappointed that I didn’t say something like, “Oh, I’ll hold on to her awhile.”

I think I’ve changed just a bit and would do better in this situation if it happens again.  I might not feel instinctive baby-love in my soul, but I value my friends more than ever. 

My kind of Baby Love!

Imagine this song is being sung to you by a library book.

I thought that Baby on Board signs disappeared at some point in a pile of shoulder pads. Alas, no.

I know, of course, that Baby on Board signs are designed to encourage cautious driving. But the sign just makes me think about the Baby. Why can’t I actually see the Baby through the window? If the Baby is not currently On Board, should they turn the sign around? Is the Baby no longer a Baby and the parents forgot about the sign?

Wait. Is the Baby driving?

I’m not convinced these signs make me more cautious.

I think the baby WAS driving Jonathan’s car.

I met a young woman sitting at a party with a baby in her arms who started our conversation by asking (and this is totally true,) “How many children do you have?” When I smiled, made the zero sign with my hand, and said “Zilch,” she put her hand on my arm and said, “That is so sad.” I swear she had tears in her eyes. “I’m…ok,” I said. But she sadly shook her head. In her mind, I am living a tragedy.

I can live with that.

My favorite kind of kids. Over age 20.

Research choice 1. Find mind-numbing, amazing, shocking info online.  Share with 100,000 social media friends.

Research choice 2. See mind-numbing, amazing, shocking info. Say sh**, really? Breathe. Get favorite beverage.

See if the product/view is pushed on a site that benefits from the info. Look up the person/group who numbed your mind to see if their background makes you nod sagely or shriek loudly. Check other pieces on the amazing, shocking thing. For medical, health or similar stuff, do free searches through Google Scholar, free online research databases through your local public or college library, or other yeah-you’ve-established-they’re-legit site to see if a study was done with logical methods and conclusions.  (Did they test a lot of people? Have a control group to compare results? Not conducted by Uncle Barry who lives in grandma’s basement and plays games on a 1990’s Nintendo when he’s not making stuff up?)

Though mind numbing and shocking info can be true, choice #2 often reveals it as exaggerated, misinterpreted, misrepresented, or a bunch of crapola.

If Annie Lennox tells you something, it’s probably true.

Lucky, lucky dog people.  You have such crazy, goofy, fun with those silly pooches. 

But even during sex, “would you lick my face” are words I never say.  Neither are “would you never brush your teeth and then lick my face?” or “would you eat someone’s poop and lick my face?”

I realize I let cats, who tongue-clean their butts, nuzzle my face.  AndI get all smiley-happy when I see a cat.  My eyes think dogs look cute, but my emotions are not stirred.  Or even shaken. Perhaps specialized and inexplicable love is in-born, like loving broccoli and digeridoos.  I suppose I need to go with the reactions nature has bestowed, but, upon reflection, stop face nuzzling cats. 

“Gonna Buy me a Dog” – The Monkees. These kids are having so much dang dog fun. Though did I detect a forced smile after Mike Nesmith is pooch-licked?