Every Friday night my husband and I have date night. This consists of eating lots of junk food and watching Battlestar Galactica after John Patrick goes to bed. (Yes, I admit, we are sci-fi nerds.) Anyway, my job is to go to Duane Reade on the way to picking up John Patrick from daycare. This is where I get all our fattening supplies for the evening.
This particular Friday I was in quite a hurry. I quickly made my Duane Reade run, caught the bus and went to pick up John Patrick. After getting him bundled up and in his Bjorn, I loaded up. Keep in mind that I was carrying my work bag, his diaper bag, his milk cooler, and a Duane Reade bag full of junk food. In all honesty, his teacher warned me that John Patrick was going to be hungry soon. At the time I thought, “no sweat. It’s only 3 blocks to our apartment.”
After getting out on the street I realized that I didn’t have my keys. OH CRAP!! – I left my keys at Duane Reade!
As I flagged down a cab, John Patrick chose that moment to relay to me just how hungry he actually was and started wailing. I threw everything in the cab and climbed in with him in hunger fit 2008. Usually a pacifier might help this situation but of course I had none in sight. So I did something really stupid.
I immediately stuck my finger in his mouth.
Now in case you missed it – my hands at that point had been on my keys, all over Duane Reade, and worst of all (this part makes me shudder) the city bus!
After realizing this, I quickly took my diseased finger out of his mouth but the damage has been done.
So I shamefully admit that if my son turns green and grows a tail, it will be because of me and the disgusting germs I stuck in his mouth straight from the NYC transit system.