Chris, upon changing Noah’s clothes for bed…
“Um, how did Noah get a third nipple?”
Well, you see, it’s a long story, babe.
It all started with a successful mall trip.
Too successful, really – I should have been suspicious of the trouble headed my way. I had managed to make it to two stores that I needed to go to, return two items to said stores, score a pair of $1.99 pajamas for Noah, let Ali spend some money she’d been saving, meet our friends and NONE OF OUR FOUR KIDS EVER CRIED, eat lunch, AND have a first two-kidded carousel ride – again with the no crying part.
Yes, successful indeed. I walked out of the mall, patting myself on the back while applying my SuperMom badge.
We arrived at the car and I parked the stroller beside it to begin the grueling process of loading two kids, baggage, and a stroller into the car. Right as I initiated my stroller emergency brake, a lady in scrubs walked up.
Wait a minute – those aren’t scrubs.
That, my friends, is a scrubs-colored pant suit – scrubs-blue from head to foot, and not because it was her required uniform.
As I was pondering her wardrobial choices, I realized she was headed for the car directly next to mine. To which my stroller was blocking the way.
Of all the hundreds of cars in this parking deck and thousands of cars at the mall in general, and she HAD to be parked in the one right next to me, ON the side that I was utilizing for child loading. Awesome.
Augh. I had a lot of unloading and shuffling to do to get out of her way.
Ali in the car.
Bags in the car.
Purse in the car, WITHOUT the keys – keys in my hand.
So far so good.
She was waiting patiently, not yet tapping her OHMYGOODNESS HER SHOES MATCH HER PANT SUIT foot, but I could tell the tapping was gonna start any minute.
I started getting faster.
I pulled Noah out of the stroller, but his paci clip got hung on his stroller and ripped off.
Now I was holding Noah, paci clip, and trying to figure out how to close the stroller one-handedly to get it out of her way – foot tapping would NOT wait for me to put Noah in the car first – I could sense it.
I had to ditch something, so I quickly reapplied the paci clip with the zero free hand that I had.
This was the wrong decision.
Noah immediately looked shocked and started crying – dang it!! What have I done?!?!
I unclipped the paci clip, frightened at what I thought I did.
I lowered his shirt and looked.
I had indeed. I had clipped his paci clip one layer too deep.
Thoughts started flooding my mind…
I AM A HORRIBLE, DESPICABLE, NO GOOD MOM.
…but wow – that looks exactly like a third nipple.
I AM AWFUL, DESERVING THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF PUNISHMENT.
I wonder how long he’ll have a third nipple from this incident…and will he name it Nubbin’?
I AM THE SCUM ON THE BOTTOM OF A SCUM’S SHOE.
I can’t believe a paci clip company could make such a dangerous product…after all, it’s all their fault, right?
NO NO NO. IT’S MINE. ALL MINE. I DESERVE TO BE EATEN BY R.O.U.S. WHILE BURNING IN A FIRE SWAMP.
I still can’t believe how much that looks like a nipple. The design of that paci clip jaw is uncanny.
I finally managed to close my gigantic stroller zerohandedly, comfort my baby about his new feature, and get tri-nippled baby into the car.
Did I just hear a foot tap?!?
I glared at her car through my window. I hope you’re happy with the price I paid!!
(Or Noah paid, rather.)
…And that, dear husband, is how your son got his third nipple.