SARAH
The birth of my daughter, Sarah, changed my life forever. Before she entered the world I was the typical know-it-all non-parent, making such claims as, "When my kid's born she's going to eat to a set schedule so we'll know exactly when to expect her bowel movements!" or, when hearing someone else's baby cry I would say something intelligent like, "Our kid certainly won't be a screamer like that!"
I laugh when I think of those things I said, and how reality reared up and slapped me hard when Sarah was two weeks old. She was due for a routine checkup with the pediatrician to assess her growth and address any issues we had. Sarah's birth had been rough on my wife, Emily, causing damage to her cervix, and her obstetrician was very insistent about her taking it easy. Therefore, I ended up taking Sarah to the doctor myself.
"Oh, and honey," Emily said before I left, "I need you to stop at the store on the way home and get some things."
What? I thought. Men aren't allowed to get groceries are they?
"Sure, no problem," I replied, sounding unfazed, but when Emily handed me the grocery list her expression suggested I wasn't fooling anyone.
The trip to the pediatrician went well, although when I walked into the office I did not see any other men there. I couldn't shake the feeling that all the mothers eyed me suspiciously and sent one another telepathic messages such as Oh my God! A man with a baby! Who does he think he is? Of course those feelings of awkwardness were all in my mind and the checkup went fine. It was over in no time and I was soon back to my car. When I reached into my pocket for the keys I felt a piece of paper there. It was the shopping list Emily had given me; I had completely forgotten about having to go to the store. For the first time I took a really good look at it. There were a million items handwritten on that list and to my surprise, I began to feel nervous.
Oh come on! It's just shopping!
I reached the store in 20 minutes then carried Sarah and her diaper bag (the small one with pink flowers and cartoon bunnies on it) inside. The store was huge so I figured I'd blend in. I searched around for one of those custom shopping carts that I have heard exists; one with a built-in car seat at the bar you grab onto and push so a parent could shop without having to hold their infant. However, I could find only the basic pushcarts in the cart corral. Since Sarah couldn't sit up by herself I realized that I would have to carry her while pushing the cart at the same time. This was something I hadn't thought of and suddenly I felt like I was on another planet.
Get a grip, I told myself.
Instead of dwelling on it, I went to work. In no time I was pushing the cart around the store with one hand while holding Sarah with my other. I perceived stares at me from other shoppers and imagined a store employee approaching me to explain: "I'm sorry sir but only women are allowed to push shopping carts around. What are you, new?"
After acquiring half the stuff on Emily's list, Sarah started getting fussy. That fuss quickly led to a cry and then, as I watched with wide-eyed fear, that cry turned into a scream.
"What's wrong?" I asked, frantic as I held her out at arm's length and stared down her wide open, screaming throat. I found myself fixated on what I thought might be her tonsils as they vibrated from the yell and this almost made me laugh. Positioning Sarah in the crook of my arm, I touched her cheek and this immediately calmed her. I met a few stares from my fellow shoppers and looked smugly as if saying, Yeah I've got the magic touch.
"Sh, everything's alright now," I crooned to Sarah. Then, I smelt it. At first I was sure there was some bad meat sitting on a shelf nearby but then I knew what it was: The big poo.
"Oh no no no," I said to Sarah. Touching her cheek stopped working and she continued screaming. Of course, people again stared at me and I was getting tired of that. Suddenly, a store employee walked by and when she caught a whiff of Sarah's latest work, she stopped her stride.
"Sir, there are bathrooms in the back of the store with changing stations. Would you like me to show you the way?"
"You betcha."
Changing Sarah was nothing new to me and I finished the deed in record time. When I walked back to my groceries I saw a different shopping cart, the kind with the built-in car seat, at the end of the aisle. I walked to it and looked around as Sarah cooed in my ear, telling me something she probably thought I understood. The cart was empty and no one was near it. Abandoned cart! I thought, and then went to work. I strapped Sarah into it and then rolled it next to my original cart to transfer groceries. Of course, Sarah screamed because my attention was now away from her so I pulled a binky from the diaper bag and tried using that, but she wasn't interested. Frazzled, as Sarah screamed, I pulled groceries from the old cart and stacked them into the new cart, reminding myself that this incident would pass. The stares from other shoppers really began bothering me and I confronted each one with a wild grin and unflinching eyes.
"How's it going?" I said loudly to the first gawker, an elderly woman with a beehive hairdo and wingtip glasses. She turned away and I confronted the next shopper.
"Think it'll rain?" I yelled as I transferred the Similac formula.
"Read any good books lately?" I shouted while jerking my head to look at another customer as I loaded the Pampers.
"How about them Seahawks?" I yelled at a man at the other end of my aisle, "Huh? How about 'em?!"
From that point on people avoided Sarah and I as we finished our shopping. As long as she could grope at my hands while I pushed the cart, she was just fine.
When I got home I unloaded the groceries and put them all away. When I was done, I searched for my daughter. Emily, on the verge of sleep, was holding Sarah in the rocking chair. I carefully pried my daughter loose just as Emily started snoozing comfortably.
I looked at Sarah and she stared at my face in awe. She was my daughter but that day I felt we had also become friends. Feeling a bond I never have, I sat on the couch, propped my little girl on my lap, and talked to her about our day.
THE END
To Stories by Max contents