Bub Tooth Time Machine

As a kid growing up, I was obsessed with two things. Collecting bread tags…and time travel. (Uh…forget I mentioned the first thing)…

Wide-eyed and tousled hair (yes, I did have hair once and I assure you, it was quite tousled), I disappeared into TV shows like Time Tunnel, Doctor Who, Quantum Leap, Sliders, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, Star Trek, Planet of the Apes, Ready Steady Cook (again, forget that last one). I built my own play TARDIS in the backyard and fantasised about travelling through time and space.

Then came the movies; The Time Machine, The Philidelphia Experiment, Timecop, Time Bandits, Terminator and Terminator 2, DejaVu, Austin Powers, The Time Traveller’s Wife, Hot Tub Time Machine and of course Back to the Future, just to name a few. All fuel for the Mr.Fusion that is, the Delorean of my mind, flitting backwards and forwards in time and space trying to figure out the hows and the whys.

And I have my own theories on what’s possible and what isn’t, but don’t get me started on that, I already alluded to the existence of temporal displacement in an earlier blog(Mumma’s already dropped off at the very first mention of the words, time travel).

And there’s been a myriad of vehicles, devices and methods that people have used to get there. Elegant Santa sleigh-esque Time Machines, Deloreans, trains, boats, spinning psychedelic discs, plasma balls, phone boxes, hot tubs. You name it, they’ve tried it. But…

Who’d have thought the power to travel backwards in time, is located within…

One solitary, little…baby tooth.

For, just as things were progressing quite nicely in the “sleeping through the night” department, the emergence of that little tooth has transported us all back to 1928. Back when Indy was waking up every few hours and Mumma and I would look at each other, me in my high pants zoot suit and handlebar moustache, she in her flapper fashion bodice and feathered headdress, thinking…

“Haven’t we already done this?”

But alas, it seems we’re destined to relive the past, at least until we can find a way to get back to the future. But I’m guessing, we’ll need a lot more teeth to make that journey happen.

Until then, we’ll rely on our faithful friends, Panadol and amber neck beads, to get us through the night. Mumma can take the Panadol and I’ll try the beads, they seem to help Indy sleep, maybe they’ll work for me?

“Great Scott, Doc. This is really heavy”.

Relax folks, it's all relative

Relax folks, it’s all relative…

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VIP Treatment

Just like the sci-fi TV-Series Sliders, each week I feel like I’m thrust through an inter-dimensional portal, right into a brand new world that I never new existed. Only, instead of having a remote control timer that thrusts me into different dimensions and circumstances at the end of every episode, I have a kid…and parenthood…that pushes me through that door, instead.

So, where did my portal take me this week?

To a place of such extraordinary VIP Treatment, the likes of which is usually reserved for royalty and/or astronauts? A luxurious world where privacy, space and convenience meet. A world where modesty, companionship and radiation all flow into one. The fascinating world I speak of, is…

The Baby Change Room

How weird, crazy and contradictory? The first thing to raise a curious eyebrow at, is the futuristic self-opening door. It’s like having the convenience of a Doorman at Crown Casino, compressed into a tiny button on the wall. Very convenient if you’re pushing a stroller and don’t have to back your way in to hold the door open. The next thing to hit you, is the SPACE. My god. This is no narrow washroom facility with troughs and cubicles lining the walls, where you sidestep around each other like Riverdancers, trying to hotfoot it to an empty cubicle without brushing up against some unfortunate coming the other way. This is Julie Andrews territory, spinning round on a hilltop singing, “The hills are alive, to the sound of music.”

There’s futuristic escape pods mounted in the wall for you to change your baby into, complete with seat belts. I guess, in case you accidentally hit the eject button or launch them into space. Either that, or you think your baby’s going to strain so hard to push something out, that he’s going to have to be strapped in for his own safety first? And how crazy is this? They have a microwave oven in there!! How long do they think it takes to change your baby? Certainly long enough to maybe heat up a kebab while you’re at it.

There’s even a discreet and private “lounge” area, where you can sit and feed your bub behind the privacy of a curtain. Now, here’s the contradictory part…

The toilet has a “his-n-hers” kind of feature, that’s really a “biguns-n-littluns” kind of deal. One big adult size toilet beside a smaller kiddy size toilet. So, it seems kind of weird and contradictory to me that if you have to pop a boob out to feed your baby, then you’d better pull a curtain across in front of you for modesty. But if you have to take a sh*t, then…modesty and privacy go out the window!! You have to do it together, no curtain, no nothing between you. Just a wink and a smile is all you can afford by way of modesty for you, my friend.

But still, I’ve never seen anything like it. There’s even a machine that dispenses “nappy kits” complete with a nappy, nappy wipe and disposable bag in case you’ve run out of your own. And some change rooms even have a play area in there for the kids! So, I think the VIP stands for Very Important Parent, if the washroom facilities are anything to go by.

What a place. What kind of world will my kid spin me into next episode? I can hardly wait to find out.

Until then…hand me that toilet roll son, spare me a square if you’re done?

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