Daddy daycare
Saturday, minding Sophie alone all day while Luna works. So far Sophie has consumed three disposable diapers and 10 ounces of breastmilk. This being a Seafair weekend, formations of Blue Angels would thunder overhead, causing me to leave the wriggly baby—-but only for a moment!—-to rush out to the deck for a glimpse. Later the buzz of hydroplanes came from the lake biplanes cut through the air. Blecchh.
The beautiful light streaming in from the west was impossible to pass up. I posed Sophie against a green blanket on the floor. Snap. Our curtains diffused the afternoon light. Snap, snap.
Oh her own, it seemed that Sophie just wouldn’t sleep longer than a quarter hour. So I’d deploy my secret weapon: a Graco Baby Swing. Also effective: strapping her into the Maclaren for neighborhood stroll. On the first leg of our stroll into Columbia City, Sophie was as alert as a tourist while I dutifully played tour guide. When she nodded off, I ducked into the local Pho Hoa for a bowl of noodles.
Crossing Rainier, I found a picnic table in Columbia Park (its surfaces 100% tagged by local kids) and relaxed, baby in arm, until two kids pulled their whip up in the adjacent lot, honked three times, and cranked their stereo. (Thanks, kids! Had I not been carrying a baby, I’m certain you’d have done your worst.) Across the park, their sister and Mom left an apartment and crossed the park toward the car and bundled in. Thugs, thugs, thugs.
It’s been a long day. Luna called, asking for a 10:30 pm pick-up. Daddy daycare finally gets to close shop.
