Saturday with Sadie coffee grinds and football

When my wife arrived home from an appointment to a sink full of dishes she acted annoyed.

"Entropy," I told her, it is the order of the universe.

Apparently entropy is not a suitable answer to dishes in the sink. Relatedly, I told her, quite pedantically, entropy is often misused by those not in the know to indicate chaos when it is something closer to energy's persistence in changing and its potentiality. So I stood by the sink and wept. Even entropy has abandoned me.

I learned today that I may not be suited to take care of s on Saturdays. You see, I had a football game that I wanted to watch, and children who are four months old do not enjoy football as much as they should. I mean, they essentially sort of look like bald old men/extremely cute babies and bald older men love football. Such reasoning does not work with a child because children are unreasonable. A lot of folks will try and chalk it up to their inability to understand language, but I think it's just laziness. English isn't that hard to learn.

Anyhow, as I was preparing for the game to begin s got hungry. And I, dutifully I might add, prepared her some milk. Unfortunately, I didn't notice that I had forgotten to put an insert in the bottle, (our bottles have these little plastic inserts that hold the milk while keeping the exterior clean. This lead the manufacturers, stupidly, to leave holes in the sides of the bottle) and breast milk (which I've been told by the wife is like gold. I've begun actually storing bits of it in my basement in case the economy continues to derail because I'm thinking that if the gold standard doesn't cut it we'll probably go to breast milk next) started pouring out on the sink. At this point I had to unscrew the cap and quickly pour the contents into a regular glass and then sop up my gold standard with a few paper towels. I then put the lid back on s's bottle and proceeded to feed her and as my little one began to cough I pulled the bottle away thinking that she was drinking too quickly, but as I leaned closer to her I noticed small black flecks all across her lip. It was at this point that I realized that the bottle nipple had a bunch of coffee grinds on it from its stint on the counter and that I had given s her first taste of food, coffee grinds.

Well then I spent the next few minutes playing with s while wondering if a baby could choke on a coffee grind and convincing myself alternatively that I could her breathing just fine and also that she was acting strangely and in a manner somewhat reminiscent of people choking in movies and wondering whether a finger sweep might be necessary to save her while simultaneously not really wanting to because she was probably okay and getting little kid slobber all over your fingers is still kind of gross. So finally, after exchanging a few pleasantries, raspberries and stuff, essentially blowing spittle on the couch at one another, I gave her a finger sweep and she promptly began gnawing on my finger, and I realized that it was going to be okay for now but that she might not be interested in solid foods for a while if we only gave her coffee grinds.

At some point after that I began watching the game and s went down for a nap right as it started and either slept for an hour very peacefully or cried quietly enough for me to ignore it without feeling too guilty. And then I brought her into the bedroom, and she sat on my lap and watched football, and I suspect that she loved it.