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A Milk Explosion

It was a scene.

Me pushing the stroller holding the loveliest of cargo – baby Cohen, and the energetic border collie Bailey, dragging us all down the sidewalk.


Our daily walk usually consists of the three of us going around the block, through the park or down by the river.  But today we ventured out of our quaint little neighborhood called Fraser’s Grove and all the way to Starbucks (it’s actually not very far, but still!).

We made it there without too much hassle, stopping along the way for me to retrieve Bailey’s token stinky crap in a bag.  Everyone we passed along the way seemed to look at me with either pity, awe or curiosity.

Why is that women walking her dog, pushing a stroller and carrying a plastic bag of crap?

Hello! It’s called being a mother!

Anyways, we got to the coffee shop, I tied Bailey up to the bike rack outside and Cohen and I went in to order water and Earl Grey Tea Misto (Yum!)

Now here is where the fatal flaw was made.  I forgot to ask for one of these:

Tea in hand, I headed out to grab Bailey from the bike rack.  She was sitting all proper and nice, posing as a really well-behaved dog.  Good trick Bailey.

As I reached down to grab her I heard a burp from Cohen and turned back to see curdled milk dripping down his chin, shirt and all over the car seat straps.  Lovely.  I grabbed the burp cloth and wiped it up.

We started walking back home and as we turned into the neighborhood, things started to go down hill.  The sidewalk happened to be in pretty rough shape in one particular stretch and each time the stroller went over the cracks, my tea jostled in the cup holder, splashing up through the hole.  At first it was just a little splash here and there, but as the cracks got worse, milk began to splash everywhere!  It was spraying Bailey’s back, my hand, arm, cute dress, the stroller and all over the ground as well.

At one point as the frothy tea splattered across Bailey back she looked at me like, “What gives?  Why does that warm crap keep landing on me?”  I tried to wipe her off with Cohen’s spit rag, but when I turned back, curdled milk was spewing out of him like a geyser!  There was milk everywhere.

Eventually I slowed down to try and avoid the cracks but apparently when you go over bumps slower, it actually causes the milk to splash more, from both the cup and the baby!  Who knew.

We finally made it home, a trail of expensive milky tea marking our trail.  There must’ve been a good 2 or 3 bucks on the sidewalk behind us.

And I learned my lesson.

Next time just get one of those little green stick things Heather!  Too bad they don’t make them for babies too.

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