Baby Trafficking

One Saturday morning, when you were two, we went on a shopping trip to Buy Buy Baby (While it’s a nice store, this isn’t meant to be a plug.  The name had hilarious consequences).

Cookie sitting in the stroller: I want a baby of my own.  Then I get to push her in a stroller.

Mommy: Do you know babies are a lot of work?

Cookie: Really?

Mommy: Yep.  You have to change their diapers and give them baths.

Cookie: Oh.

Mommy: Then you have to cook special foods and spend hours feeding them when they won’t eat.

Cookie:  OH.

Mommy: Then when they throw up, you have to clean up the vomit from the baby, the floor, the walls.  The throw-up goes everywhere.

Cookie: OH.

Mommy: And then they wake up in the middle of the night, and you don’t get to sleep.

Cookie: I don’t want to have a baby.

Cookie suddenly crying: I don’t want to go to Buy Buy Baby.

Please understand that this was a big shock to Mommy and me since you rarely cried when you were little, and full on water works were extraordinary.

Mommy: Why?

Cookie crying: I don’t want to go buy a baby!  I don’t want a baby!

Mommy: Buy Buy Baby is short for Buy Buy Baby Stuff.  You can’t buy a baby at Buy Buy Baby.

Cookie inconsolably crying: I don’t want to go to Buy Buy Baby.

Mommy:  Buy Buy Baby doesn’t sell babies.  It’s illegal to sell babies.

Cookie in the middle of sobbing: What’s illegal?

It’s a good thing I was pushing the stroller as you couldn’t see me behind you, Cookie.  I didn’t want to seem insensitive cracking up in the middle of your crisis.

A few minutes later, when we entered the store, you had the most suspicious face a two year old could summon.  And no, there were no babies for sale.

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