Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Poppa Bear, Momma Bear, Baby Bear

Yesterday, Sean came home and said he had a present. He pulled these army green satchels out of a plastic bag. They reminded me of the army/navy bags that the girls used to carry as purses, when I was in high school. Or the character in my novel, who uses one of the suckers to haul her art supplies around. One, two, three packages, he pulls out, then he says, "I got the family pack."

So I got a hold of one of the packages and started looking at them. It was this kind of snout thing, made of heavy rubber with bug eyes and an attachable canister. A gas mask. Sean brought home not one, not two, but three gas masks. Poppa bear, momma bear and baby bear. I didn't even know they had baby sized gas masks.

How bizarre. What the hell am I doing with a gas mask? Not to mention a gas mask for a baby that I haven't even had yet. It figures that one of the first pieces of baby equipment I would get would be to be used in the case of traumatic emergency. I mean, is it even really useful? Think about it. What are the chances that we have the things available exactly when we need it? What kind of world is it that we live in that we would actually need to own gas masks?

It just might be the most frightening present I have ever recieved.

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