Mr. Baby reached an exciting milestone yesterday: his first neighborhood business association meeting! We did our best to maintain a homey, crackled veneer of professionalism as he grabbed at the crab legs and baked brie during the pre-meeting social and I nursed him during the association officer election. He was an amusing prop during the member introductions ("I'm from Mothersville ... obviously."). But then it all went downhill when the grown-ups tried to have conversations that didn't involve him. The board president began explaining what the association had accomplished over the last year. "Mamamamama!" The festival chair detailed the highlights of the last event. "Mamamamamaaaaaaa!" Our city councilperson outlined the plans for our district. "MAMAMAMAMAMAAAAA! (pbbbbbbllllltt!)" His dwindling consciousness and increasing bowel activity were our cues to exit, so we slipped out as unobtrusively as possible, only braining three local business owners with my giant Mary Poppins diaper/laptop/saddle bag on our way.
Isn't it darling when they first grasp parliamentary procedure?