Bad Baby

I’ve been embarrassed by my five-month-old. And when I say embarrassed, I mean humiliated beyond belief, to the point where I’d seriously like nothing better than to crawl into the giant hole that Dog From Hell One has dug in our backyard, and die.

Here is what happened:

Yesterday, I get a call from my boss, a nice enough man, who’s got the most unsettling eyes you’ve ever seen. They point in two different directions and never seem to blink. 

Before I went on maternity leave, he would often come into my office just as I was hunting for shoes on eBay or reading pregnancy updates on BabyCenter, and because of his beady eyes, I was sure he was about to fire me. But just when I was ready to hand in the towel myself, he’d say something like “Could you get me five copies of Friday’s press release,” and I’d know it was just the eyes. They’d get me every time.

Beady Eyes is calling to see how we are doing, which is really very nice of him considering what a crap employee I’ve been. I tell him it’s been great and say the obligatory mom things like “Buddha Baby is growing like a weed,” etc...

Then it happens.

Buddha Baby lets rip a massive fart – probably the loudest one I’ve ever heard him make. There is a moment of silence and then Beady Eyes, not being able to take the tension, interjects with something lame about the weather. By this time it’s too late to clarify that it was my baby and not me who broke wind and I am mortified.

--

“Why didn’t you just say something when it happened?” asks Practical Joe through tears of laughter.

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Nice fart Buddha Baby! Ooh that sounded like a wet one!’ It was my boss I was talking to!”

Practical Joe taunts me with farting noises for the rest of the evening, forcing me to relive the shame that my baby has forever caused me.

I think I might have to quit my job.

Namaste,

-MM