The Curse of the School Baby

Dagny's teachers often allow Dagny to bring home a baby from school to "borrow" until the next school day. It's great for the children. I guess one could argue that it helps to teach responsibility. However, this is hell for the parents. Of all the things we parents are supposed to remember, focusing on the whereabouts of another thing, be it a baby doll, is too much pressure. As much as I have discouraged the baby from coming home with Dagny, it still seems to visit our home at least once a week.

On Tuesday, the teachers once again awarded Dagny the responsibility of borrowing the baby. At the time, I noted to the teachers that this particular baby is looking a little crusty, so I would try to launder her if time permitted, prior to the next scheduled class. Apparently, children absorb nearly everything (unless you're asking them to set the table for dinner or to get dressed for school).

Departing Dagny's school with the burdensome baby doll, I drove to the pediatrician for the annual flu shot. I believe this particular baby doll is cursed. Either that, or this doll is gunning for me! This doll is nearly an appendage to Dagny's little body. But, she seems to lose her continuously. I've returned to half a dozen places to retrieve this damn doll. Lately, I tell my girls that their baby dolls and teddy bears must take a nap in the car while we enter various establishments in the San Fernando Valley. I've learned the hard way, that unless I want to make twice as many trips to each establishment retrieving these playthings, it's best to leave them in the car. It's enough being responsible for my children, let alone their toys.

Since we were visiting the doctors office today, and I suspected she might need some extra comfort after her flu immunization, I allowed her to bring the baby doll with her. Further, Dagny insisted that the baby needed a flu shot, too. I tried to keep track of the baby, in addition to my own kids, while trying to keep them entertained as we waited for our turn. As we were leaving and rushing to get home for dinner prior to a major meltdown, I must have lost track of that darn baby again. Getting through rush hour, the so-called part of the evening ritual involving feeding, bathing, reading and going to bed for the kids. At bedtime, Dagny requested that she sleep with her "school" baby. I searched high and low for that thing. I couldn't find her anywhere.

On Wednesday, I called the pediatrician's office. I was sure we left her there. I must have called the receptionist three times on Wednesday. Has the baby turned up yet? No, we haven't seen her, was the repeated response.

I continued to tear my house apart, searching for this dirty doll. Surely, we could afford to replace the doll. But, who wants to waste money on a situation that could have been prevented?

By mid-morning today, I abandoned the search and resumed my daily household responsibilities. I really needed to attend to the build-up of laundry. There were clean clothes still in the dryer from two or three days ago. I opened the door to the dryer. At the top of a mound of wrinkled clean clothes laid the dirty baby doll.

While relieved that I wouldn't have to replace the baby for the preschool, I laughed to myself at how helpful darling Dagny tried to be.

When I dropped Dagny at school this afternoon, I recounted the baby's adventure over the last two days. Surely now, that baby will stay at school.