A thought on carriers

Hi. Philip here. Recently I have become a baby carrier enthusiast. It seems logical that this happened only recently because prior to that I did not have a baby. The genius of the carrier lies in its ability to allow me to live the leisurely life to which I have become accustomed, while still bonding with Wade at the same time. Who said parenting would involve sacrifices?

Of particular utility has been the ability to eat while keeping Wade on our person. This feature has become particular as we've discovered that Wade, though blessed with a boundless collection ofminiature seats and other Wade-holding contraptions, hates to be put down. His responses to this insult range from bewilderment to indignity. All hope of a pleasant dinner appeared lost for the next 18 years, until we implemented the carrier.

Despite its benefits, however, the carrier has not been without its negative externalities to our offspring. On a recent evening, Anne and I sat in the living room enjoying sushi and an episode of Alias. As I casually glanced down at Wade's head protruding from the carrier, a dark blemish caught my eye. Parting the tufts of light brown hair with my fingers, I could see what appeared to be a large mole on his three-week-old scalp. No, not one, but two moles, and they big and dark and irregular. The precise kind you'd read about in a pamphlet while waiting at the dermatologist's office. Sweet mercy - Wade had skin cancer! How could this be - his squamous cells had mutated overnight despite never encountering UV radiation! How? Why? I looked closer and this time touched one of the spots gently, fearing he would recoil in agony.

Soy sauce.

Since that time, Wade's head has tasted cereal, scrambled eggs and some orange juice that I coughed up when it went down the wrong tube. To spare him further indecency, I have begun to put a napkin over his head. I think he appreciates it.

The image below is a dramatization