Mar 18 2011
Whether Martin likes it or not, he’s the problem-solving parent. Trouble shooter extraordinaire. When something goes wrong with the kids, I don’t seek a resolution. I seek Martin.
He is, the MacGyver of kid quandaries.
Like the other night when we ran out of apple sauce. (Apple sauce is a must-have for Brynn’s daily medications.) We ran out late-night, when many miles separated us from an open store.
“What are we going to do?” I lamented, collapsing dramatically on the couch.
Martin didn’t answer. He ignored my end-of-the-world display, and unearthed our blender from the depths of a kitchen cabinet. Sweeping away the dust, he plunked the glass blender jar into the base.
I popped up from the couch. “What the hell are you doing with that?”
Martin fished around our fruit bowl and brandished an apple before dropping it into the blender. The metal blades whined in protest and the blender emitted its trademark “This is it, I’m burning out!” odor… but eventually it pureed the fruit.
I never would have connected that contraption with baby food. (In my defense, that appliance only sees the light of day in the summer, when it has one task: to make strawberry daiquiris. I guarantee, that apple sauce reeked of residual rum.)
But who cares if the baby’s buzzed? Problem solved.
I know. It’s not like Martin hot-wired a car with a paperclip and a gum wrapper. And I realize that there are scads of parents who whip up homemade, healthy baby vittles all the time.
No matter. I’m still convinced. Martin is innovative. Just check out his hands-free feeding system for Brynn:
|The Couch Wedge|
|Whoa, take it easy there… don’t strain yourself|