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Posted June 7, 2002


Those Babies Have it Made
I think my productivity at the office would go through the roof if my desk was modeled after a child's "exer-saucer." The desk would be doughnut-shaped, and I would sit in the center suspended in a comfy seat high enough so that my feet just barely touch the ground, so I can twirl around.
My "exer-desk" would have a computer on one side, a telephone on another, a mirror, a fish tank, and a house plant. I wouldn't have to waste anymore time walking up to the front of the office to check the faxes, because the fax machine would be located right at my "exer-desk," between the red, blue and green flashing buttons that, when pressed, play Sesame Street tunes at absurd tempos.
I would never be without something to do because I would have an assortment of beads on tangled pathways of wire, and as I was waiting for someone to return my call I could while away the day by pushing the colored beads around and twirling in my "exer-desk."
Babies have it made in American society. There certainly can be no greater blessing the world over than to be an American baby.
I have recently summoned up the nerve, supported strongly by my wife Katie, to begin venturing into baby stores. Actually, they are more like baby MEGA STORES because you could run a 10K race inside them and not even reach the back wall.
One store we went to recently, call it "Babies by the Billions," was two stories of more items for your baby than I ever thought existed. It may have been more than two stories, but I had to run out the front door and get some air before I passed out from shock.
I have recently learned, for example, that hooded towels are essential if you are to bring up a healthy, well-heeled child. So, you must purchase ninety-two complete sets of hooded towels or you risk being labeled a thoughtless parent when you take a parenting quiz in one of the seventy-five pregnancy magazines you get in your mail each week.
Thank goodness we don't have to buy a stroller for our baby, who when he or she is heralded into this world in September I will promptly nickname "Exhalted Highness" because of all the cute, cuddly and soft things the world will lay at his or her feet.
We don't need to get a stroller because Katie knows someone in the Baby Mafia who will give us, at no charge save our eternal gratitude, a stroller that was only slightly damaged during a bank job gone awry in Hoboken last year.
But if we did have to buy a stroller, my head would explode.
It would take me less time to plan a walking trip across China than it would to decide which "Baby Transport System" our baby needs. Because, obviously, if you choose the wrong one then you've doomed your prodigy to a life of devoid of meaning or pleasure.
So, there are strollers with shock absorbers that weigh 500 pounds or so. There are strollers with built-in CD players, DVD screens, Weber grills with the optional rotisserie. There are strollers with seats that clip out to become car seats, vibrating seats, and movie seats, so the baby might not actually have to leave his or her seat until he or she is 21 and ready for his or her first date.
But there are a few things we are going to have to buy. Apparently, old-fashioned rocking chairs were banned by the Surgeon General, years ago because if you own anything other than a "glider" then you are, well, dooming your prodigy to a life devoid of meaning or pleasure.
When you go into a store to purchase said "glider," which is really just a new version of the rocking chair, you'll be surprised to find that it takes 12 weeks to get one, even though they look like the kind of product you'll be lugging home in a box and struggling to assemble for 16 straight hours next Saturday.
The manufacturers of these chairs have delusions of grandeur that they are serious furniture makers, when in fact they are just making rocking chairs and they would do themselves a favor to make a few extra and sell them off the shelf. Maybe they will be bought out by Ikea and we will no longer have to wait three months to receive our rocking chairs.
What a difference that will make.
But now for the biggest scam in the baby world: The Crib Mattress. Cribs need mattresses. Cribs don't come with mattresses when you buy them. How silly of me to think they would. You buy those separately, of course. Of course.
So you've got a newborn who is pretty much noncommunicative and you're wondering what kind of mattress this little guy or girl is really going to be happy sleeping on.
You're thinking that pretty much anything will do. It shouldn't contain gravel or be made of pressboard.
You figure you'll check the label and make sure it doesn't say "nails" or "broken glass" and that will be it. You'll be heading home with a mattress in hand and go back to assembling the glider that you ordered four months ago.
Whoa, big daddy. Babies, apparently, care what mattresses they sleep on because the store stocks not five different brands and models, not 10, not 15 or even 20. Katie and I visited a store that had 30 DIFFERENT makes and models of crib mattresses.
Katie made me leave the store before I had a heart attack.
Yes, babies have it made in America. They are getting their way before they are even born. They are given their choice of beddings, strollers, mobiles and rocking chairs before they can spell "parenthood."
They even get their choice of "exer-saucers." So why can't I have an "exer-desk?"

 

Copyright © 2002 The Herndon Publishing Company

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