The Hidden Dangers of Baby Bjorns

This, for you under-rock dwellers, is a Baby Bjorn baby carrier. It is to my generation what the Snugglie was to my mom's generation, except without all the obnoxious straps & buckles. And this is clearly not me, nor one of my babies. I have numerous pictures of me using a Baby Bjorn, but none flattering enough to post to the World Wide Web. So instead you get Miss SkinnyMini up there with her ridiculous horizontal stripes, obviously carrying a baby that she never gestated in that flat belly. But I digress . . .

Baby Bjorns are a fabulous way to tote little Jr. around. Please note, however, the required mode of travel of said Baby. Baby rides straddling the bottom portion of the carrier. ALL of Baby's weight is centered squarely in the crotch region.

This is fine, normally, as Baby has a nice little diaper to cushion the tush and avoid getting saddle sore. Lovely, unless Baby needs to poop. (And just a wee hint to all of you Miss SkinnyMinis out there who have never actually encountered a real baby . . . they poop A LOT. As in massive quantities. Just sayin'.)

Now I'm no physicist, but I am intimately familiar with the Law of Nowhere To Go But Up: When something is moving and its path is blocked, it will shoot straight up like a duck in hunting season. Think geysers, volcanoes, gas prices . . .

. . . and baby poop. The force of that particular BM rivaled Mt. St. Helens, and was nearly as destructive. Fortunately, I wasn't alone at the time of the blow. As I'm running up the stairs to the bath tub, I shout, "Micah! Torah has poop everywhere! HELP!!"

And as helpful as a 12-year old boy can be, he came running . . . with the camera.