About Distracted Daddy
Distracted Daddy is a working father with a two-year-old daughter, a focused wife and a flatulent pug. When he’s not distracted he blogs about poop, parenting and other things at distracteddaddy.com.
Robbing the Cradle
distracted daddy: robbing the cradle canada
(Oct.06.11)
Time for a flashback. Let’s look back, Lost-style, at a time before the toddler and before the baby. Back when the baby was just a baby bump. Make the Wayne’s World doodle-o doodle-o noise and we’re back to when my wife and I were only six months pregnant.
During this pre-baby time, we received a large number of secondhand baby items. People who used to have babies now had used baby stuff and because we hadn’t had our baby we could use used baby stuff. The nursery became a staging area full of unpacked boxes and secondhand items kindly donated from friends with babies who were no longer babies.
Our lives were about to change drastically. Where we ready? Sort of, maybe. Was our dog ready? No.
Our poor little pug dog remained blissfully unaware of the change in the family dynamic that was brewing. He was still number one baby. He still received all the attention, even as our unborn daughter began to receive all the toys.
One of my wife’s friends gave us a large bagful of various baby clothes and stuffed toys. This item went in the nursery along with everything else. Our dog gave the bag a glancing sniff but feigned disinterest.
Then in the middle of the night… a large noise, a crash, a boom, and a bang. And it was coming from inside the house.
When something goes bump in the night, it’s not acceptable to send your pregnant wife to investigate. No matter how much you’d rather sleep. So when there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Unarmed I wandered down the stairs and wondered what I would find.
A burglar? A home invader? An intruder? Jolly Old St. Nick?
I found a thief alright. A four-legged thief.
At the bottom of the stairs stood a very embarrassed pug dog and a half-emptied bag of secondhand baby toys. The guilt dripped off his face just as the puggy drool dripped from his chin. He was caught red-pawed and he knew it.
Using the skills I’ve gleaned from Dexter and CSI reruns, I was able to reconstruct the crime scene. While my wife and I slept, the pug dog snuck into the nursery to sniff out the new toys. He grabbed the bag of baby toys and tried to make his escape. He pulled the toys towards the stairs, at which point he somehow became entangled with the bag. The bag fell down the stairs and pulled him down with it.
What would he have done if we didn’t catch him? Drive the toys to Tijuana and begin his new baby-free life? Pawn them for drugs? Chew them nonstop until they were slick with his pug-dog slobber? The world will never know.
We felt bad for the little guy, even if he was trying to steal the toys of our unborn daughter. Under the cover of night, no less. He was about to be replaced as the primary baby. He probably deserved some chew toys too. We were lenient with him. The embarrassment was punishment enough.
Despite this early foray into baby toy larceny he has been rehabilitated. He never tries to steal our daughter’s toys these days. He only tries to steal her food.
Thought that was sweet? You'll enjoy:
Previous Articles:
#1 Dad
:
the fatherlode: five best blog posts
Stung
:
distracted daddy: once stung twice shy
Who's the Boss?
:
distracted daddy: baby for a boss