I've decided that I will become a successful and masterful inventor. They say that all great inventions are born as a solution to a problem, and Lord knows I've got problems. Remember me? I'm the woman whose kid just about took out the neighborhood with a 6 ton roll of tin foil. I'm familiar with problems.
The "Stay There" Chair
About 6 months ago, Cael graduated from booster seats and specifically from the one that strapped into his chair at our dining room table. He relishes in being a "big boy", but in real-world terms, I find that he is simply covered in relish. Or beans. Or pasta. Whatever it is that we're eating, it is all over him, and not because of poor table skills, but because he won't sit still. I could wrap a leather belt around him and cinch it down, or I could hog-tie him with a jump rope or even a series of interconnected colored pipe-cleaners. But all of those options lack the finesse and lucrative potential of a product that could command $89.99 at Babies 'R Us.
Think "swiss army knife", minus the knife, or the Scandinavian military. This gadget is every mother's dream, swiftly changing us from inept guardians into the MacGyver of all parents. It's a flashlight. It's a black light. It's a projector, clearly and flawlessly displaying 101 Dalmatians on the exterior wall of Dick's Sporting Goods as Daddy stops inside to "get something quickly", only to emerge 101 minutes later.
It sprays hand sanitizer for those moments when you most need to be sanitized after changing a diaper in a scary gas station bathroom that looks cleaner just for having you there. And in its most impressive feature, a small laser light painlessly cauterizes wounds as well as trimming toe nails without so much as a blade, and avoiding the mouthy shouts of "ouch, you're hurting me... stop, stop!" that escape my son's mouth like a woman in labor with no epidural.
Lastly, let me introduce you to the Disguiser.
The possibilities are endless. Imagine never having to listen to your children fight over a toy because you are able to transform a potato into a second Gator in a very Cinderella/pumpkin turn of events. Consider never feeling your stomach lurch as you gingerly throw away a dirty diaper filled with a substance easily as potent as Anthrax, because you were able to disguise it as a very expensive Dooney & Bourke handbag. One that even compliments your outfit.
So while I may not have made a career for myself using any of my skills, I know that I will always be able to disguise my failures.
And I promise that, should any of you choose to invest in my life-changing products, the first thing I will do is go back to today's post and disguise the fact that I had nothing better to write about today.