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er+eb=TLF, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

Finally made it up to MA over the weekend to bond with my BFF Johanna and snuggle up with her presh lil’ baby Emlyn (note how awes he looks rocking the black onesie I got him!) A sweet time was had by all, and after I got over my fear of crushing him when I held him, I found that I could get him to stop crying by either swinging things over his head, or singing him power ballads from the ’80s. Rock on! In the aftermath of my visit, however, I (suprise, surprise) had yet another baby nightmare:

I was at a big pool party at someone’s palatial estate. They had a huge indoor pool that started on the covered roof deck and went all the way down a few floors to a glass walled lounge where people could sit and watch the people swimming around through a big window. I was feeling self-conscious about walking around in my bathing suit, and I really wanted to get in one of the jacuzzis, but every time I was about to get in the water, everyone would get out, so I would stay out because I didn’t want to be the only one in the giant pool by myself. Eventually people started leaving the party, so I started wandering towards the exit. I entered a kitchen/dining area, and I saw a baby lying unattended on the kitchen table. I went over to the baby and decided to sit with it until someone came back to claim it, since it wasn’ t safe just lying on a table all alone. For some reason, the baby’s head was resting on a small dinner plate, but I didn’t think that was a big deal, so I just rubbed the baby’s belly and let it grip my pinkie with it’s tiny hands for a while. Eventually the mother, a thin, tan, frosted lady bristling with entitlement came barging in with an entourage and came over to the baby. She picked the baby up and started screaming at me that the baby’s head was squished into the plate, that I was killing her baby, and that I had to call an ambulance or the baby would die. I tried to explain that I had just found the baby like that, I didn’t squish the baby’s head onto the plate, and besides, the baby was fine and happy and didn’t look squished at all. The mother wouldn’t listen, she was just frantic and screaming at me and telling me over and over the baby was going to die and it was all my fault. I went searching for a phone to call an ambulance, and got all stressed out because I could see nothing wrong with the baby and I didn’t even know where I was or whose house it was or what to tell them. Then I woke up in a sweat.

Classic.

This entry was posted on Monday, January 15th, 2007 at 10:38 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.