Product Review: The Comfy Baby Jail

Recently my mother was given the opportunity to review something she calls a 'travel crib'. Although she got it for free, I'm pretty sure she says whatever she wants about it anyway.

Well I didn't get it for free, and I'm going to blow the cover off this story. (Is it off the story? Maybe it's on the story. Do I even have a legitimate saying here? I digress...)

When I first spied this package in the mail, I was nearly certain it was going to be a toy for me. You know, because toys come in beautiful, big, brown packages that the Up-Man leaves.

I lost interest when mom pulled it out because it looked like it was just another box. Oh, how wrong I was.

About a week later, we all piled into the car. It was a Tuesday. Light sprinkling. A bit of wind. My last vestiges of freedom. Had I only known!

We headed to one of my favorite places to eat bugs: the park.

I love the park. There are all kinds of things there that are delicious to put into your mouth. The dirt feels crumbly, the sticks are chewy... sometimes I even find a spare bottle-cap or two that someone thoughtfully left behind in the grass. The park is an adventure in taste not to be outdone!

This time was different though.

Mom had brought along the usual sandwiches - tasteless white bread, bland turkey, the off-brand of mayo... (the nerve of her!) She clearly is not cut out for catering a family picnic. There were chips too, of course, but I prefer to crunch those into the dirt before I eat them.

I went off in search of something that would satisfy the gourmand in me and (luckily) I wasn't disappointed! There in the grass, just a few feet away, was the most beautiful duck feather I'd ever seen! There were a few ants crawling on it... something sticky on the side... even a bit of mud. Glorious!

I've got to hand it to my mom... for being SO old (and I mean geez is she old, I think she's almost 30) she can move really fast. I didn't even get to taste that feather before she had snatched me up and plunked me down into some sort of a cage.

I was flabbergasted! Where had this contraption come from? My mother fed me bits of sandwich & chips from the open area above the cage. I tried like mad to climb out, but these chubby legs just couldn't do it.

Still in a state of awe and shock, I munched on the less-than-savory meal provided (I understand now the term 'prison-food') and began to plot my escape. Plans were going well until I realized that the cage had some sort of super-powered hold on me! I was beginning to fall asleep due to the oh-so-comfy-softness of the mattress below.

I couldn't resist it's hold any longer and before I knew it I awoke in the car. I screamed with a fury, but alas! - there was no help for it. My chance to eat bugs and run free with duck feathers blowing through my hair had passed.

Since then, I have been sent to this comfy baby jail a number of times, which led to my discovery that this baby jail can be assembled in just a few seconds out of that mundane-looking box my mother received! And because it's so 'easy-to-carry', she's been taking it with us everywhere we go! I haven't had the opportunity to eat sand, drink puddle water, or even bite through a flower in the past two weeks!

I give this baby jail 2 out of 3 stars. One star because it's doing what it's supposed to. One star because it's cozy. And one minus star because it is severely impacting my ability to get into trouble.

Food Review: Dawn Dish Soap Soup

Today I visited one of my favorite restaurants, 'Get Out Of The Kitchen'.

The main course today was a soup, kindly left in the sink by my mother. Accompanying the soup was a decadently chewy sponge that felt fantastic on my gums.

The soup itself was comprised of a few soap bubbles floating on top of a container of water, but the truly delicious part were the tiny floating bits of pasta, meat, veggies, and whatever else happened to fall into the bucket during the most recent dish-washing. Heavenly!

Dish Soap Soup made with Dawn Apple Blossom Soap - mmmmm, tasty!

Judging by the soap-bottle left on the counter, I could tell that the bubbles were of the green-apple variety, made by Dawn. I quickly discovered that by squeezing the sponge into the soup, I could create a vast amount of bubbles that were easy to suck out of the cloth. This was both tasty & messy; two of my favorite things!

Unfortunately, I was unable to finish my meal at 'Get Out Of The Kitchen', due to the customarily rude wait-staff. I was forced to leave my soup where it was and was subjected to a mouth-rinsing by my mother that consisted of flavorless water and a vigorous tooth-brushing.

*Sigh*

I give the food, bubble-quality and presentation all 5 stars. As to the service, I can only leave 1 star.

If you would like to try your hand at making Dish-Soap Soup for yourself, I have left the recipe below:

Dish Soap Soup Recipe

1. Have your mommy wash the dishes.
2. Bring a stool to the counter.
3. Climb onto the counter.
4. Dip a sponge into any leftover water that may be floating in the sink.
5. Suck bubbles & dishwater out of sponge.
6. Enjoy!

Why does my dad keep killing my friends?

I made a new friend today and named him Frank.

I first saw Frank while the dog was trying to eat him. I thought he was a piece of dog food and, well, because I love dog food... I grabbed it out of the dog's mouth.

But it wasn't dog food! (As much as I would have loved that.) It was the most beautiful little brown creature I'd ever seen, with tall pointy sticks coming out of his head and little legs that tickled me all over when he ran across me.

I even pulled one of those tall pointy sticks off his head because they were SO cool and wiggle-y. I wanted to taste it (because you never know what is going to taste good) but my brother started screaming and crying so loud that I thought he was going to break my poor little ears.

Then he jumped on the couch and started pointing in my direction. I was terrified! I had to save myself (and Frank) from whatever this scary thing was. But when I picked Frank up and went to climb on the couch with my brother, he let out the loudest screech I'd ever heard and started throwing pillows at me!

Then mom came in the room, and boy. You'd think she'd maybe calm my brother down instead of paying me any attention - but all she did was take one look at me and start screaming too.

I decided that they were crazy and sat back down with my new friend just crawling all over me and decided that it was as good a time as any to try and eat that wiggle-y, pointy stick.

Just before I got to try it though, my dad swooped in on the scene.

It was like the scary part of a movie. Scarier than when Pooh-Bear is stuck in the storm. Scarier than that big octupus-lady in the mermaid movie. Even scarier than that people-sized mouse we saw last summer that mom tried to make me hug.

Dad smacked my hand, the sting not nearly as bad as the heart-wrenching experience of watching Frank, my dearest friend, fly through the air before landing on the TV. I cried. My brother was screaming (I still have no idea why), my mother started hauling me into the kitchen. And there stood my dad, steps away from Frank, with a big newspaper in his hand.

He smacked at Frank, not once, not twice, but five times before my poor friend finally stopped moving. And then (as if it wasn't enough!) he scooped Frank up and I'm pretty sure I heard the sounds of him being flushed down the toilet. (Hard to tell though because my mom was spraying me down with some hose in the kitchen sink that she uses to torture me.)

The crime scene.

On the one hand... I really love my dad. But on the other hand, this is like the fifth crawly-friend of mine that my dad has flushed this year! What is wrong with him that he doesn't want me to be happy?!

I have the weirdest family ever.

Dog Food is Delicious

Today I woke up and my mom forgot to immediately stuff my face full of Cheerios, so I decided to lay down on the floor and scream next to her feet while she dressed my brother.

From my vantage-point on the floor, I could see straight across into the living room where the dog - my number one frenemy - sat eating her kibble. I could tell that the dog was laughing at me, mocking me even, as I lay on the floor desperately dying of 12-hour starvation.

It was then that I plotted to steal the dog's food. I didn't want to eat it - I just wanted to make someone else as miserable as I was, and I couldn't reach the table to steal my daddy's coffee.

As my mother struggled to button my older brother into a shirt that for some reason seemed to have a million tiny buttons on it, I casually made my way over to the dog's dish. (I'm soooo good at sneaking around the house because I know how to make myself ultra-silent.) I was like a freaking ninja. Mom never looked up.

When I finally got next to the dog, I stood up and tugged her on the ears to assert my dominance. The pup quickly ran away with a yelp, and I put on my most-innocent face as my mother glanced over. I thought my plans were foiled, but I quickly exchanged a glance with my brother to enlist his help.

Lightning-fast, he knocked a cup of water onto the floor to steal away our mother's attention. I can always count on my brother when it comes to the dirty-work.

With limited time available to me, I grabbed as much dog-food as my chubby little fists would allow. I raised my hands to my face in a gesture of victory, ready to splatter the kibble all around the room - and then... the smell hit me.

Oh delicious, meaty, chicken-y scent... how could I resist you? I started shoveling the tiny pieces into my mouth, floating on clouds of tasty, heavenly flavor as I vaguely began to hear shouts from somewhere in the background.

Suddenly, I really was floating. My mother was practically tossing me into the air, insanely snatching me up before spraying me right in the face with that evil mechanism she calls a " Faw-Set ". I nearly choked on her fingers while she yanked those yummy morsels right out of my mouth and I screamed to let her know that she was ruining my good time.

I didn't even get to swallow.

Mourning the loss of my snack, my only consolation was seeing the dog taken away and placed back into the Lawn-Tree Room holding cell. I was plopped down in front of a bowl of bland, tasteless Circle-O's. That's right. My mother doesn't even buy name-brand.

Someday, I'm going to get out of this place. When that happens, I'm going to eat all the dog food I want, and no one will be able to stop me.

Not even my mother.