One thing I have noticed is, when my daughter wants to eat, she wants to eat now.
Not in fifteen minutes when you're ready to feed her, not even in five minutes when her milk is warmed up. She was hungry two minutes ago which means you are already three minutes behind schedule.
Now, Jennifer has pointed out on more than one occasion recently that Evelyn is such a happy baby. How she often is smiling away, giggling at some unspoken joke, or generally just staring with a bright face that says "I think everything is awesome!" But you deny this child her meal for even a second - don't even stop to grab a can of soda for yourself - she will become the world's single greatest threat so quickly, the National Guard won't have a chance to respond.
You think I'm exaggerating?
Let me tell you what happened yesterday - with time stamps.
4:27 pm: I called Jennifer to see if she's on her way home, and tell her that Evelyn will be hungry soon. Jennifer says she's leaving the office soon and heading to the parking garage.
4:35 pm: Evelyn realizes I snuck in a phone call to call in my ally and sole reinforcements. Begins devising her "Normandy Invasion."
4:42 pm: I have successfully installed a seatbelt and parachute to our big, once comfortable chair. Because when the oncoming storm hits, I want to be prepared for anything.
4:51 pm: Sensing my fear, Evelyn begins to strike. At first it was the bullets of whimpers and outcries raining down from the heavens, but within minutes it is a full-scale sonic attack.
4:58 pm: Jennifer arrives home, no doubt running from the cops who so desperately needed to give someone a speeding ticket but were unable to catch her.
4:59 pm: Jennifer delivers the worst news amidst the hail of screams and bellows, she states, "I have to go to the bathroom, give me a minute."
5:01 pm: Jennifer is ready to feed Evelyn and the child is passed from father to mother.
5:02 pm: The threat has been neutralized with only minor injuries and one death - a small squirrel who happened upon our back porch in search of food.
6:03 pm: A telegraph arrives from London stating that the squirrel nation has declared war, but within thirty seconds, another telegraph arrives stating, "Oh snap, we forgot you guys had Evelyn Williams and her sonic screams. We surrender!"
6:05 pm: A treaty is signed between myself and the squirrel armies of the world.
Okay, you may think that's ridiculous but a) She really screams hard when she's hungry and b) there really is a squirrel nation with its own armies!*
Anyway, the moral of the story is, if you're holding my daughter when meal time is about to roll around, it is best to grab a helmet and pass her off to her mother, or myself if I have a bottle.
*No there's not.
