Straps

For at least the first year of a baby's life, his world consists of straps. Straps on the swing, on the bouncy seat, on the high chair, on the infant carrier, on the stroller. By far, the grossest of these straps, I've come to find, are the ones on the thingys that you strap the infant carrier into in a restaurant. It could be one of those new handy high chairs that the top flips open to accommodate the seat, or the nifty sling. Cracker Barrel has a cool board that fits across a chair. But no matter where you are, the strap always looks like it's covered in a green filmy pond scum. And I guess the reason why my attention has recently turned toward straps is because Poops loves to eat them. They used to go ignored. But now, he finds them and lunges toward them ferociously and that's mostly okay if it's our own straps, because I keep them pretty clean. And besides, it's his own pond scum, not the pond scum of all the babies in the world. So I've come to notice straps after a series of straps scares in our life over the span of just a day. The other day, we sat down at a restaurant and put his infant carrier in one of those fun high chairs where the chair flips back and you put the strap across the front of the infant carrier real tight. I turned for literally just a second because that's all it takes and there it is, the pond scum strap is in his mouth and I'm gagging as I'm freaking out trying to get it away from him. EW. Then the next day, we're at another restaurant and he's just about gets his mouth on the strap from the sling that his infant carrier is in. But just before he does, I swoop in like the flying guy from Heroes, or the one who suspends time, and grab it first. Victory. Then, just a mere two hours later, I hear this wet gagging sound, and there he is with the strap from the stroller jammed into his mouth. I don't get it with the straps. I guess it's probably because he's in the phase of putting everything in his mouth, which I've found actually is a phase that lasts through adulthood, because a couple months ago, my husband picked up this little crumb or piece of lint and asked me what it was, and before we both knew it, he put it in his mouth. Gross.