MIRROR, MIRROR, IN MY CROTCH
People say that parenthood really changes you, that you find yourself drawing on reserves that you never even knew you had. As the day of our child's birth approaches, I see Leo proving that constantly. He has plummeted to depths of Leotardism that even I never knew he could reach.
About a month ago we were making a list of things we still needed to buy. I mentioned a baby bathtub-- one of those things you fit in the sink. Leo thought this was really silly and completely unnecessary. I asked him how he thought we should give her a bath. He suggested filling up a "bucket with soapy water. Then you just take it upstairs and dunk her in it."
We were also debating whether to get disposable or cloth diapers. At some point during the conversation it became clear (as it often does) that Leo was laboring under some sort of weird delusion, and had no idea what it means to change diapers. Knowing that he has never in his life had to change a diaper, I asked him if he even knew how to do it. "Sure," he said. "You just lay them on the table face down and pull her up by the ankles."
"FACE DOWN?" I asked. Leo looked genuinely surprised. "Yeah. How else do you get access to the ass?"
That day we went to Barnes and Noble and got a book on the basic care of infants.
One last Leotarded story. This morning while I got out of the shower, Leo said that UPS had delivered a package from his cousin.
"Oh really? What's in it?" I asked.
"Baby clothes and odds and ends."
"Some diapers and a weird mirror for your vagina," he said.
"A what? Huh?" I asked, not willing to completely doubt him since his extended family is sometimes a little free-spirited in the nudity department.
"It's some kind of mirror that you prop up between your legs while you're practicing Lamaze so that you can see your vagina."
"What? What are you talking about? Who does Lamaze naked? And why would you want to see your vagina anyway?"
"Look, I don't know," he said. "I'm just telling you what it is."
I went into the living room and looked in the box. I could tell immediately what the alleged vagina mirror actually was. "So how do you think this works?" I asked him. He sat down, legs spread (clothed, thankfully), and positioned the mirror in between.
"Like that," he said.
So now I would like to show you a picture I found online of the "vagina mirror" that we got-- it is the same even down to the fabric.
I hope that family used some Lysol before they gave it to that kid.