I picked up
Ryne from daycare a couple days last week. Perhaps one of the most horrifying experiences came when I couldn't figure out how to loosen the safety belt before strapping him into the
carseat, which would have inevitably cut off his oxygen supply (allowing you to insert your own dead baby joke at this point). I could feel the eyes of judgemental parents as they casually threw their infants into their carseats, snapping them safely into position with a flick of a wrist.
30 minutes and 3 daycare workers later, we finally got him strapped in his carseat. I'm surprised they let me take him home.
I cannot wait until I'm 85 and he's strapping me into my car seat. It's payback time, baby. Just kind of like I can't wait until he's 5 or 6 and has hair that I can pull.
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