dirty looks

I forgot to write about this a couple of weeks ago. I took Jonah on a little outing to the bookstore, hoping to have a little change of scenery. I browsed the new non-fiction section and selected a book to look through, then I grabbed a couple of magazines off the shelves. I ordered a decaf coffee, doctored it up with the perfect amount of cream and sugar, and sat down to read with Jonah on my chest in a sling. I skimmed the first few pages of my magazine.

"This is the life," I thought. "I'm learning about the world and enjoying a tasty beverage with my baby quietly sleeping on my chest."

As soon as I thought that Jonah woke up and began to make grunting noises. I patted him on the back, but his vocalization only intensified. Soon he started rubbing his fists against his cheeks and mouth.

"Aww, he's hungry again?" I said to myself surprised. "I just fed him a half hour ago."

The grunting didn't last long. Within minutes it transformed into crying. I rushed out of the bookstore to my car to feed Jonah. But on the way out, I was dismayed to see the first dirty look that I've gotten as a mother of a crying infant. It came from the security guard at the bookstore. I didn't even know there were security guards in bookstores!

I fed Jonah in the car, then returned to an already empty table. I made my rounds around the bookstore, picking up the same magazines and book I wanted to peruse. And again, Jonah began grunting and then crying instantly. So, I fed him in the car again and decided we better go home.

I told the story to a friend of mine who said that he used to be one of those people who'd give parents of crying babies dirty looks until he became an uncle and had to care for his crying niece.

And that's the story of the first dirty look I've gotten as a "bad mother."