We’ve gone out to my dad’s house in the Hamptons a few times since the baby was born but this past weekend was the first time since she started crawling. I’ve taken steps to baby proof our apartment ever since Mazzy first went mobile, but I totally forgot that this pertains to places we visit as well.
We got to the Hamptons late Friday night so Mazzy went straight to bed. As per usual, she woke up at 4am and I couldn’t get her to go back to sleep. So I decided to take her into the living room to play. As I looked around for a nice little spot to lay out some of Mazzy’s toys, I was confronted with the hard reality of the situation: WE WERE SPENDING THE WEEKEND INSIDE A HOUSE OF BABY HORRORS WAITING TO DESCEND UPON OUR CHILD.
Let’s start with the most obvious. The coffee table. A large natural slab of wood complete with horrifically pointy edges and a splinter inducing finish. Not to mention that it’s sitting on top of a rug that might as well be a large piece of sand paper.
Next let’s move on to the antique rocking chair. It involves numerous exposed metal screws, springs, and knobs. Notice how a little hand can easily be placed between the base and the part that rocks back. I call it “The Finger Guillotine”.
Then there’s the labyrinth of wrought iron underneath the dining room table.
Now here’s where it gets really ugly. First we have the dragon. Yes, the dragon. It’s about the size of a small car and weighs twice as much.
Check out his razor sharp pointy wooden teeth that are about four inches long.
But that’s nothing compared to the 20lb. iron sculpture sitting on top of a tall slim shaky pedestal.
Or what about the pointy-eared metal cat with fangs keeping watch over the exposed fireplace? Yes, that’s an electric lighter sitting on the floor.
There’s also the rickety bar cart on wheels and the fact that the floor vents are large enough to fit the entire baby’s head.
And the pièce de résistance. Not only perhaps the most unchild-friendly-like object I have ever seen in my life but also the most abhorrent item to ever make its way into any house EVER. I call it “The Phantom of the Opera Projectile Vomited”.
There are also a whole host of knick knacks that while not physically dangerous, are the kinds of things that will find a permanent space in a small child’s brain and live in their worst nightmares for years to come.
Things like this abnormally large bunny.
And this for which I have no words.
Is it even worth pointing out that there is no fence around the pool?