ashley’s asylum

You couldn’t pay me to be somewhere else right now.

I’m sitting here, rather hot, reading a few blogs, a few forums. And I’m watching my youngest daughter, Ashley, while Megan’s in the shower. Ashley is just about seven months old, and is discovering mobility. But she hasn’t quite found it yet. At least, not with consistency.

Anyhow, she’s pseudocrawling around in circles, with a toy. She’ll switch between rocking back and forth on all fours and scooching around until she finally gets her hands on the toy. And then squeal with joy. Briefly. Children her age tire quickly of such nonsense. So she’ll begin to whine, toss the toy aside, and let out a wail. But before she can get through the initial burst of out, she hears her toy tink-tink-tinky on the ground next to her. She looks quickly and sees the bright orange, and – I have decided – wants it in her clutches. We then repeat the whole scenario.

…Until she finds the top of the Wal-Mart-bag-acting-as-a-garbage-bag folded over the edge of the pale. That is now her new desire. I allow her to pull it so the bottom of the bag, once at the bottom of the container, now looks like saran wrap over a bowl of salad. Well, I can’t have her playing with plastic bags and all that rot, so I remove her tightly clasped fingers from the bag. And the real noise begins. It is clear that nothing is more important than that blue bag, with a smiley face on it.

Now she’s in Mom’s arms, looking over her shoulder at me, smiling like the wonderful little thing that she is.

And people don’t want as many of these things as they can get?