an open letter to my highchair
I'm so ready to end our relationship. Seriously. You are a giant waste of space, and I don't just say that to anyone, so you should feel kind of special about that. It's not just that you take up space, it's the way in which you do it. It's kind of a way that says, "Oh, hey, I'm just gonna jut out in this place awkwardly so you stub your toe 24 times in one day, because you should really remember by now that I'm here." It's a kind of way that says, "I have wheels for crying out loud! Just wheel me somewhere more convenient." There is no where convenient for you. Except the trash.
Please don't get me wrong: you are mostly good at what you do. You contain my child and keep her from falling out of a seat onto the floor. You provide a large area for her to mercilessly mush and smear her food. You're even padded, and that has to feel nice for her. But you do not contain the mess. But you also do contain the mess. Which is the worst part. You contain it in such a way that it is impossible to reach into your crannies. I know there is food rotting inside of you from 2012. And that is just disgusting. 2012! That is not okay.
Also, you conceal things. I don't appreciate being lied to, highchair. I think my daughter has eaten an entire piece of chicken and then I lift her up and what to my wondering eyes should appear but the entire piece… plus four other parts of chicken that I have no idea where they came from. They have glued themselves together with some sort of pear/peach/mango-y leftover paste that I think they may start clucking.
My father-in-law let us borrow his power-washer yesterday. If I would have been thinking I would have shoved you out in the yard and given you the surprise of your life.
So highchair, though you are necessary in our lives at this time, I look forward to the day I can part with you. Until then, please stop sneaking up on me from behind and ramming into my hip bones when I turn around.
the mom speaking for moms everywhere
click HERE to see other open letters I have written