For the kids' birthday, my parents bought them a new double stroller. The one we had was this great Combi double stroller, but Crazy Grandma Ichikawa did not like it. She said the canopy did not protect the kids from the sun's deadly heat rays. She wants the kids to look as pasty as her white legs. So after a little research, we found a stroller that was fairly compact and had a big ass canopy...all to make our kids look like healthy albinos.
The stroller we got is a Baby Jogger City Mini Double stroller. Quite a mouthful (...that's what she said...). It arrived in the mail the other day and it's really nice. It is so nice that's all I could talk about at work today.
I gave my friend at work the total low down on the new stroller.
"Dude! I put together this great double stroller last night. It was really easy to put together. All I had to do was snap on the wheels and attach the canopy. It weighs only about 25 pounds, so it's light enough for Lisa to fold it up. And it's so easy to fold up the stroller because you just grab two straps on the seat and pull up! That's it! Can you believe it? And the maneuverability is so much better than our last stroller. You can practically push with one arm. ONE ARM! And there's ample storage space. You have large mesh pockets behind the seats, and one large mesh compartment underneath the stroller. I'm telling you. This is a really good stroller. I can't wait to take the kids out for a ride..."
...and you can add another five to ten minutes to this conversation about our new, kick-ass stroller. IT'S KICK ASS!
As I was having this conversation with my co-worker, I noticed his eyes began to have that wax figure look: glassy and dead. Suddenly it hit me. I was (gasp!) BORING him! What have I become? I usually have such interesting and classy stories to tell my friends at work. Like the time Lisa did a major fart in bed and it almost made me throw up. Or the time when I was taking a crap and there was no more toilet paper, so I had to shuffle to our pantry to grab a roll without staining my pants. You know...class stories like that.
I remember when I was younger and listening to other people talk about their kids and my eyes would have that glassy, dead look. But now I understand why they would talk about their kids: kids consume your life. They eat you alive! 24/7 for the rest of your life you're a parent and that's all there is to it. I think once the kids get older, you'll be able to revisit your old interests (i.e. video games and porn). But when they're in the baby/infant stage, you really got to keep an eye on them. One second they're playing with blocks, and the next they're inside the microwave smoking a bong.
I apologized to my friend for rambling on about baby strollers, and he told me it was fine and he thought it was interesting. I questioned his interest in baby stories, so I started to tell him stories about diaper receptacles. And I was right: he was bored. How do I know? Well...he shot himself.
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