I didn't do much about the July 7, 2007 (777) hype. I know there were lots of weddings (and c-sections!) and other milestone type events planned for yesterday. And I know casinos expected to be extremely busy. But it took me until today to realise that Pace was seven weeks old yesterday. So there's another happy, lucky coincidence!
Oh, and awhile back, I wrote about a book called “The Poo Bomb” that was originally an Internet column. The full contents of the book are back up – I think because the hard copy version is now remaindered. The entry for Week 7 was eerily familiar:
“We just got one of those electronic swing things. You know? Those things
you put the baby in, and a little battery powered motor rocks it until
it quiets down, simultaneously hypnotizing it into submission and churning
the contents of its diapers into a frothing poo milkshake? Those things?
They're great. It feels like cheating.
Whenever our little fusspot is fed, burped, changed, and otherwise cared
for in every way the law requires, and she's still fussing/whining/screaming/being
heavy, we put her into the device one of our friends aptly named “The
Neglectomatic.” And it rocks her worries away.
I now know exactly how long it takes for a thought to develop in our
baby's tiny, tiny brain: 1 minute. You can watch the process as she swings
back and forth. The motion empties her brain of her concerns, and then
you can watch them creep back, the new expression creeping over her face
like the skin on a bowl of pudding, until she has fully decided what is
bothering her. Then you can watch as the Neglectomatic shakes the thought
out of her brain, like rolling a marble out of a hole in the bottom of
a coffee can. And she's sedate for another minute.”
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