...on the edge of the desert when the formula began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit poopy, maybe you should drive..." And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge pacifiers, all swooping and screeching and diving around the crib, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the rail down to Las Vegas.
The diaper bag looked like a mobile police narcotics lab. We had two bags of cheerios, seventy five boxes of Animal Crackers, five sheets of high powered Fruit Rollups, a salt shaker half full of Pixie Stix, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored Skittles, M&M's, Nerds, Runts....and also a quart of apple juice, a quart of Kool-Aid, a case of formula, a pint of raw GoGurt and two dozen apple slices. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious snack collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the GoGurt. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a baby in the depths of a GoGurt binge. And I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
1 comment:
Mike, your mind is much more interesting than you let on in person.
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