Move Your Babies

I am a self-proclaimed non-baby person, which may be an understatement. I don’t want babies, I don’t like babies, I don’t want to see pictures of babies, and I don’t want to be around babies. When I meet my friends’ babies, I have been known to treat them like cats: pat them on the head a couple times then act like I’m allergic. I also run out of the room whenever something comes out of a baby’s body (Once, someone thought I was running to get a paper towel to help with the cleanup. Nope, I was just running).

I realize that my desire to pretend babies don’t exist in the world is futile, though. I also understand that babies need a whole crap load of crap around them at all times. Given the previous paragraph, I understand if you don’t find me the most objective in the following situation, and maybe I’m not, but fuck it this is how I think the world should work.

My friend and I were eating lunch at Whole Foods, which is already prone to hot mess situations. We were snaking our way through the tight lunch area to an empty table, when the path was blocked with no way around. Two women were sitting at a table, and they placed two baby-filled carriages next to them. Here’s the rub: the carriages were not flat against the table, like a considerate person would do; they were placed perpendicular to the table so that they were taking up the most space possible in a narrow aisle. Please see the figures below for table and carriage placement.


Politely (again, I understand if you don’t believe this intonation, but I have witnesses), I ask if they could please make some room, to which I got blank stares, almost incredulity that I would even suggest such a thing. Thanks to my tiny-ness and flexibility I was able to shimmy passed the blockage. Once my friend and I finally sat down at a table, she said with pride and a giggle “You basically just told those ladies to move their babies.” Yes, yes I did.


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