Muffled Bangings in the Closet and Other Instances of Lack of Foresight

As my husband and I prepare for a family trip to Prince Edward Island tomorrow, my father offers to lend us his cooler. I put my daughter to bed and my husband and Dad head out to the garage. A few minutes later, I hear muffled banging noises, as though something is hitting the side of the house. My mother and I share an expression of puzzlement.

"Actually, it sounds like it's coming from inside the wall," I say.

My daughter, whose bedroom is right by the wall in question, starts wailing. I go outside to check out the source of the racket. My father has a ladder leaning into the garret, and he is handing down the cooler, lawn chairs and a beach mat to my husband.

"The attic is right by Baby's room!" I hiss. "You're keeping her awake!"

I go upstairs and take my daughter in my arms. She gives me a grateful hug, then, with under lip curled in a pout, looks to the closet, where a muffled banging has just ceased.

"There are no monsters in the closet," I soothe.

My daughter is now sleeping, and I find myself thinking: parents usually make every effort to keep monsters out of the closet, and here we are putting them in. What other instances of lack of foresight are we guilty of?

There are of course the classic cases of putting the wine bottle not enough out of her reach, and taking it away just in time to avoid catastrophic consequences; or putting her in her first miniature toddler car ride and asking the fraught-with-dire-repurcussions question: "What's that button for?" and watching your child whimper in panic as the vehicle begins to make weird rocking motions.

But I would have to say that my crowning moment of lack of foresight was the time I took my two-month old baby on her first airplane ride to visit her new family in New Brunswick. I hadn't wanted to be "encumbered" with a stroller, so I left it with my husband just before crossing the security checkpoint. There I was, with my very small baby in my arms, attempting to take off my jacket, shoes, bag, etc., all the while making sure I didn't drop her. I passed the metal detector, and thought everything would be a breeze from then on. But have you ever tried putting on a jacket, bag and shoes while carrying a baby? Not possible. Finally I had to resort to asking one of the security guards to hold my child for me while I put my things on. From that time, I take my stroller with me every time I leave the house.

But then, there are instances where fate is dead set against you. When I came back from Rome, my stroller apparently decided to take a break in Paris after weeks of rattling over cobblestone streets. It was nowhere to be found as I exited the plane; I had to walk through a mile of Charles de Gaulle airport with my 25-lb daughter in my arms, and quickly, to make our connecting flight. The stroller was returned to me a few days later, well rested and in a state of perfect nonchalance.