Maternal evidence

in blog •  20 days ago

The other day when I was at the gym I realized that the cloth I had tossed in my bag to use as a sweat-absorber was a burp rag. I mean, a clean one, but still. It was one of those hankie-sized cloths that come ten to a pack from Babies R Us, and it was festooned with cartoon whales. As it turns out, dabbing daintily at your forehead with an aquatic-themed washcloth is a fantastically efficient method of deflating any sense of bad-assedness you might have worked up during your kickboxing class.


Thanks to my own disorganization and regrettable tendency towards sloppiness, the children's accoutrements have pretty much infiltrated my entire life. The backseat of my car contains enough cracker crumbs to feed a family of ducks for a month, I've had an old baby bathtub in my trunk for weeks (Goodwill doesn't take such items, it turns out), every pocket of every pair of pants I own has at least one tissue squirreled away in its depths from the constant vigilance a toddler snout requires, and a few days ago I pulled a pen from my purse which had a Soothie pacifier firmly stuck to its nib.

The most embarrassing, though, was the time I dug out my wallet at a grocery store and accidentally yanked a Ziploc'd diaper from the bottom of my oversized purse. A wet, used diaper. Which I had sealed in a plastic bag with the intention of throwing it away as soon as I could find a garbage can, except I never did. And it had created its own . . . weather system inside the bag, coating the inside with little rainforesty moisture droplets. This repulsive item somehow hitched a ride on the corner of my wallet and made its humiliating debut right in front of an entire line of customers at the store before I managed to wrestle it back out of sight. I suppose that technically there are worse things that could have erupted from my purse, but aside from a tampon which has escaped its wrapping and comes peeping out like a tufted, dingy white cotton mouse, string dangling gaily over the side, its side stamped with the soul-shriveling text SUPER ABSORBENCY, I'm not entirely sure what they might be.

Tell me I'm not alone with the kid-stuff-everywhere issue. Okay, fine, so you don't carry used diapers in your purse (aren't YOU fancy), but surely I'm not the only one who has a baby sock in their coin pocket? That's normal, right?

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