Lunch date with Clara

Today it was raining out.  We had a lunch date at a Mediterranean grill near our house with a friend named Amanda.  I asked Clara if she wanted to wear her rain boots.

Did she ever!

I asked her if she also wanted to wear her raincoat.

Heck, yeah!

The boots are polka-dotted with red bows.  They are a size or two too big for her, so she falls down a lot in them.  Sometimes she even steps out of them completely, but she doesn't care.

I loaded her into the car and she asked for her baby.  I groaned inwardly.  Something is wrong with Ugly Baby's programming (Ugly Baby is Simon and my name for Clara's favorite doll.  She has a battery pack in her abdomen and creepy eyes.  Sometimes one of them winks.  Winking is part of the doll's programming, but it's supposed to be both eyes that wink).

Today Ugly Baby kept breaking into her strange, chicken-on-the-prowl cries, only no one was pushing her tummy to activate the sounds.  I think the spontaneous sounds are a mechanism meant to warn us that the batteries are about to quit.  I find it very irritating.

I gave Ugly Baby to Clara and she gave her the usual smooch on her pristine rubber forehead. Then Clara held her out for me to smooch.  I obliged.  May it grant me immunity from any vengeance Ugly Baby plans to exact on me for my numerous transgressions against her (including my plot to kidnap her and put her through the washing machine).

When we got to the restaurant, I opened the back door to find that the child I had so carefully dressed for this outing was missing her rain boots and socks and had wedged her sippy cup upside-down between her flank and the car seat.  Unbeknownst to me, the sippy cup had somehow lost its non-spill mechanism, and had voided into her pants and super-absorbent Huggies.

Well, it was only water.

I got her socks on, but her boots kept falling off.  The rain coat was nowhere to be found.  Clara sneezed and I reached for the Kleenex on the console.  Ugly Baby fell out of the car.  It started raining.  As I bent to retrieve Ugly Baby, I cursed my stupidity for getting Super Low-Rise jeans (at my age!), even if they were on special at Costco.  There's a reason "mom jeans" exist.

Clara wanted to walk in her boots.  Okay, I said.  But you have to hold my hand. Nooooooooo!!!!!!!!!! she said.  YES, I said.  She balled up her fist so I couldn't take her hand.  I grabbed her wrist.  She collapsed and hung from my hand.  Noooooooo!!!!!!

I sighed, squeezed my eyes shut for a second.

Do you want to bring your baby into the restaurant?

Yes!!!  She straightened, took my hand, and tucked Ugly Baby under her free arm.