Those of you who have been insane enough to procreate know the dark and unspoken truth about parenting – there is a lot of crying. Babies cry and whine and fuss and throw completely irrational fits about every seven minutes ALL DAY LONG. It’s like being stuck in a cell with 100 schizophrenic bedlamites. Locked. Caged. Trapped. And I chose this? Why didn’t I read the small print?
Comfortingly, we baby-prisoners are not alone. Reasons My Son Is Crying (Huff Post Article) is like a key to fresh air and prison-yard walks. The beginning of the blog is full of other people’s posts and the end is full of creator, Greg Pembroke’s own sons. Crying because dad wouldn’t allow splashing in the toilet. Or because he washed the dirt off a pear. Or because he took the boogers out baby’s nose. It’s all so sadly true.
And that is why it’s also so darn funny. What can we do, but laugh at how bananas these babies are?
So in an homage to Greg Pembroke, here is my experience with baby-prison and why one of the wardens (age 1 and age 2) might start crying…
- I tried to change a diaper so nobody was sitting in his own feces.
- I cleaned up crayons because it was time to go play outside with our friends.
- We made him a bottle so he could have some warm milk before bed.
- I turned on the computer so she could watch Sesame Street.
- Sam put a lock on the knife drawer so nobody could get in there.
- We took her to Pompeii on the drive back from Positano.
- I gave her her first ice cream cone in Italy.
- Kiki barked at them after someone threw a bucket on her.
- I took too long washing the raspberries.
- I answered the telephone.