Every Saturday and Sunday, I take the boy and the dog out for a long early morning walk to give Diana at least one hour of uninterrupted sleep. I load the baby into his car seat, put him into the car seat stroller, throw the leash on Grover and slowly walk to Starbucks and back.
Don’t give me guff about corporate coffee houses, they have a dish of water for Grover. As soon as “People’s Republic of Coffee” gets a Grover dish, I’ll start wearing hemp pants.
Anyhoo, I was walking home with boy, dog and piping hot cup of coffee and all was right with the world. Enter: Hipster Family. This nice, cool looking couple wheeled their cute stroller towards me for another one of my unofficial “Baby Cute Offs.” This is where I challenge another couple (in my mind) to see whose kid is cuter. Eli always wins.
Well, the nice couple started cooing at Eli and the mom turns her attention to Grover. “Is he a poodle?” I was just entering my standard Golden Doodle explanation when Grover goes bonkers. He starts leaping at the mom, trying to lick her to death. The mom reacts the way any normal person would when a big black dog tries to lick your eyeballs: She freaks out. Grover then tears off in the direction of Mecca.
I noticed I was still holding onto his leash as it snagged the stroller. Stroller down. Stroller down. I swore loud enough to rattle windows. Luckily, Eli was strapped in tight and his car seat is designed to survive a piano being dropped on it. So the boy was fine. Scared and pissed. But fine.
The couple did their best to calm the situation. The dad kept repeating, “He’s fine! He’s fine!” The mom quickly told a story about the time she fell down the stairs with her kid in a car seat.
I scooped up the dog/boy/spilled coffee and beat a fast retreat towards the home of the Worst Dad In the World.
No comments:
Post a Comment