My last post was a mystery to me. I was hungry and scattered and unfunny. But I did manage to cook Otto’s salad, make myself some lunch and get him to eat when he woke up. Hugely successful on my part. Did I tell you that the laundry is still sitting unfolded on the dining room table and the living room looks like a Chinese toy factory had a terrible case of projectile diarrhea all over the rug and ottoman.? (YES, I HAVE PURCHASED TOYS MADE IN CHINA. I am changing the subject back to Otto and food stuffs). Don’t get me wrong. He eats like a piggy but sometimes he only eats like a piglet and his father and I are insulted and then worried. We much prefer the piggy appetite.
After lunch and an Olympic diaper change, we went for a long neighborhood walk, ending up at the local bike store to get the tire fixed on Otto’s hiking stroller. It needed a new inner tube so Otto, Brody and I decided to kill time the old fashioned way, pretend to purchase large ticket items. Brody trotted off to try to ply dog treats from the young, Daisy Duke wearing cashier while one of the cool bike guys tried to sell me on the new BOB Jogging Stroller. Let me be clear about one thing. I am a terrible shopper, only for the simple reason that I HATE to spend money. Actually I hate to spend money on myself. I do not hate spending money on Otto which is a good thing his tuition for nursery school may start at $10,000 a year. There is a waterfall of cash that flows freely and unencumbered from my wallet every time I see something that he needs. Now, I am still frugal with his purchases but if I can somehow convince myself that we as a family unit cannot live without it, than the shit is mine or his.
Back to the stroller. We were there to repair fairly new and functional jogger that I happen to love. It was not expensive, it serves me well all the time and Otto loves having his own cup holders. What this mean? Will he be an avid white trash beer drinker or a latte asshole that litters his body with sugary drinks and litters the world with plastic cups and lids? Only time will tell. But that new, shiny BOB stroller in it’s new compact version with chrome wheels and a lounge like vibe for the seat? It called to me. The salesman was throwing his best pitch at me and my eyes glassed over. I put Otto in the seat and he sat there as quiet as a mouse for what felt like hours and I calmly caressed the handle bars and played with breaks, the sun shade and the safety harness. Oh, the harness was so long…
We had registered for the BOB a year and a half earlier but we returned that one. It was too big, too orange and not a Bugaboo. Yes, we went off the parental deep end and traded up to a $900 jack off stroller, the one every L.A. asshole has. It screams of mediocrity and stupidity. We used it a lot in the beginning, when Otto was the size of a raisin and I was not. Now it just sits in the corner of our living room mocking us for being so predictable and bourgeois. The cat sleeps in the bottom basket periodically, leaving behind a wig’s worth of dirty fur and a few drool spots. We keep saying we’ll sell it on EBay. It’s practically new. But we haven’t and we won’t. Dave and I are notorious for saying we’ll do something and then getting around to it the following decade. I still owe my acting teacher $250 from 1994 and Dave hasn’t had an anal exam since Bush took office. Wait, is that me?
The BOB did not come home with me but surprisingly enough, Brody did. He fell in love with the entire staff of the bike shop and gave me a look of disgust when I forced him to finally leave. The new inner tube cost me $10.40. The scantily clad cashier forgot to give me my change and blamed it on Brody’s gorgeous face. He is that good looking but she was an a classic case of body over brains. Even dogs know a good thing when they see it. The short shorts really do tell a story. And Otto? He didn’t protest when I wheeled him away from the BOB. He didn’t even wave goodbye. But I did.