Chairs for baby derrieres.

Some years ago when I was working for a family publication, I attended a police training session. The attendees were me and a bunch of traffic cops. As my magazine dealt with topics germane to young families, I was there to learn about the proper installation of child car seats -- and my fellow students were there to learn what to look for when examining the same. 

If you've had a kid in the last thirty years, you know that car seats for children, especially babies, are of grave importance. They always were, I guess, but if they were even around when I was a baby it was not something most people bothered to have. My earliest memory of being in the car was sitting on my mother's lap in the front seat as Dad drove us across a bridge -- possibly the GWB from New Jersey, but I'm not sure. All I remember was that my mom held me tight and that bridge was the BIGGEST THING I had seen in MY WHOLE LIFE -- all three years of it or thereabouts.

The reason I am thinking of my Crazy Car Seat Class is that, while cleaning out the office in preparation for moving, I found the notebook I used that day! Why I still had it I don't know; it got put in a trunk and forgotten after I filed my report. But it brought back memories of the day -- and the doodles I made during the more boring parts.

"Why is this kid upside down?"

We started with a busy classroom discussion on the types of baby seats, why parents shouldn't get a used seat (may have been in an accident), seats for kids with special needs, and basic physics (weight x speed = restraining force, so a 10-pound kid at 60 mph needs 650 pounds of restraining force) (which is more force than an adult holding the kid can generally muster). 

We also saw a video entitled "Don't Risk Your Child's Life" (an ongoing series) that, while not on the level of the cinematic classic "Red Asphalt," was an eyeopener nonetheless.

The next day we went outside to practice fitting seats in cars and discover how easy it is to do it wrong. My car was one of the ones used -- appropriately, a car that would perish five years later in a hydroplaning incident (no children were with me at the time). 

On our final day, the police, with us students in tow, held an actual session with the public. The police had arranged to have a free child seat check in the parking lot of a shopping center nearby. While I had not qualified as a Certified Car Seat Safety Technician, I was allowed to help and observe. Using my secret code (that is, my illegible handwriting) I took notes on each of the checks I watched:

Child 1: 11 months, 22 lbs.

Should have been in a rear-facing seat

The seat he was in was loose (straps holding the seat are too loose if you can pinch the webbing together)

The retainer clip was too high

The harness was also too loose 

Child 2: 6 months, 20 lbs.

Convertible seat should have been rear-facing but was forward-facing

Belt not used properly

Child 3: 2 years, 30 lbs.

Funny-lookin' kid

Harness too loose

Locking clip used incorrectly

Child 4: 1 year, weight not recorded

Seat and harness too loose

Clip too low

Latch used without the top tether

Child 5: 4 years, 45 lbs.

Booster seat but in the front; should have been in the back seat; kids that age cannot handle airbag deployment

Shoulder belt improperly threaded

And on like that. Every vehicle I saw had something wrong, and it's not like these seats don't come with instructions. Confusing instructions, I imagine. Mostly the problem was that the straps holding the seats were too loose. The LATCH system (Lower Anchors and Tethers for Children) was coming into use then but was not universal. 

Ultimately I was not asked to write the story for the magazine of My Adventures in Child Seat Safety, but I did become the Child Seat Answer Man for a while when the topic came up. And I learned to warn people to follow the installation directions carefully, and if they're concerned, to talk to a local police department to see if anyone there is a certified car seat technician. 

No matter what anyone reading this thinks of the police, know that cops never want to see people grievously wounded or killed in traffic accidents, and they NEVER EVER EVER want to see children get hurt or worse. 

Even if you have great confidence in your driving skill and your situational awareness, we all know that the roads are full of morons, dope fiends, drunks, the befuddled, the overtired, and the thrill-seekers, and we all need to protect ourselves and our loved ones with good safety practices. 

Thanks for reading, and happy and incident-free motoring to you! 

Bay-B-Bol.

My wife likes murder shows on TV, because apparently women do, but also other real-life crisis programs. She was watching one the other night that related the story of a woman who had gone into labor, been sent home by the hospital because she was far from ready to give birth, and then had the baby while sitting on the toilet. The newborn landed right in the bowl. The adventure followed the 911 call and its aftermath (spoiler: mom and baby were fine).

She did get a strange
baby brush, however.

Naturally, I have some thoughts on this.

1) What a way to meet life for the first time. Your initial experience of the world is landing in the toilet. The same can be said for poop. It sounds like the start of a Johnny Cash song that would have been too sad even for him. 

2) The temptation to name the baby something like Kohler, or Moen, or American Standardia may have been strong. 

3) The umbilical cord got tangled in the toilet seat, which is a second good argument right there to use those U-shaped seats. (The first good argument is for alcoholics who are sick of getting hit in the back of the neck.)

4) The baby girl reportedly had a two-year-old sibling. We all know what that means. Mom may swear the older child not to tell anyone about Moen's unorthodox birth, but all it will take is for the younger kid to annoy the older kid once, and it will be all over school. By the three-o'clock whistle they'll all be calling her Scrubbing Bubble. 

5) Mom's probably got a case for a lawsuit against the hospital. 

6) The baby will be one kid who can't be threatened with a swirly. "Ha! Been there, done that."

So there are my thoughts, and I'm sure you have some as well. Enlighten us in the comments, and be flushed with satisfaction. 

Baby name or microbe?

Ming the Merciless, Ruler of Planet Mongo, Invites You to Play a Round of ...

Baby Name or Microbe!

Based your performance on his tests for Prescription Drug or Fictional Planet, you had better really ace this one ... or you shall become Patient Zero in the Evil Testing Ward! Get out your pencil and paper!

BABY NAME or MICROBE?

1. Yersinia

2. Adamaris

3. Wahchinksapa

4. Demodex

5. Walvia

6. Neisseria

7. Helianter

8. Galido

9.  Ibtesam

10. Xalvadora

11. Ascaris

12. Klavdiya

13. Prokaryote

14. Vibrio

15. Quirtsquip

16. Nipah

17. Archaea

18. Spirilla

19. Jyotika

20. Ulises

👶🍼🦠🔬👶🍼🦠🔬

MERCILESS ANSWERS

1. Yersinia: Microbe -- genus of bacteria including Yersinia pestis, the black plague

2. Adamaris: Baby name -- girl's name, means Noble of the Sea per babynames.com (where Ming got all these baby names)

3. Wahchinksapa: Baby name -- Sioux boy's name; means wise

4. Demodex: Microbe -- a microscopic human mite 

5. Walvia: Baby name -- Native American for medicine root

6. Neisseria: Microbe -- genus of bacteria that includes Neisseria meningitidis, which causes (duh) meningitis

7. Helianter: Microbe -- a subgenera of paramecia

8. Galido: Baby name -- Spanish boy's name of unknown origin

9. Ibtesam: Baby name -- Arabic name for girls, meaning smiling

10. Xalvadora: Baby name -- Spanish for Savior (female version)

11. Ascaris: Microbe -- genus of parasite

12. Klavdiya: Baby name -- Russian for lame (girls' name -- even Ming thinks that's cruel)

13. Prokaryote: Microbe -- single-celled organism with no nucleus

14. Vibrio: Microbe -- bacteria in the family Vibrionaceae

15. Quirtsquip: Baby name -- Comanche, meaning chewing elk

16. Nipah: Microbe -- a type of zoonotic virus (from bats), which can cause encephalitis  

17. Archaea: Microbe -- a type of prokaryote

18. Spirilla: Microbe -- bacteria with a spiral shape, found in stagnant water

19. Jyotika: Baby name -- girls' name, Indian for light or flame  

20. Ulises: Baby name -- alternate Latin form of Odysseus (Ulysses); means to hate


MING CALCULATES YOUR SNIVELING SCORE:

20 -- You're either a huge fan of babies or of diseases; either way, wash your hands!

15-19 -- Ming admires your knowledge and offers you a place in his fiendish organization. He offers you a job naming new minions from among the Cave Monsters and testing evil viruses on them.

10-14 -- Ming tells you to study more and has you given a swirlie in the space toilet.

6-9 -- Ming scoffs and tells you to go back to school. He also calls you a double dumbass, which could get him a stern e-mail from HR. Then he has you given a swirlie in the space toilet.

0-5 -- Ming sends you to work in the evil biological warfare lab. You shall have to survive at least five dread diseases to apply for parole, so you had better hope the scientists are doing a poor job. The last guy who got out had permanent barbershop stripes all over him, like a stick of Fruit Stripe Gum. Mwah ah ah! 

Baby feets!

We were very happy the other day to meet our friends at the dog park. Our dogs were also happy to see their dog, who has been close with Tralfaz for years, was a great friend to the late Nipper, and now is like an auntie to baby dog Izzy. 

And speaking of babies, it was our first chance to meet their new human baby!

The baby, of course, was the pinnacle of cuteness, riding on her mom in a front carrier. When last we'd seen this baby, she was still doin' time on the inside. Now she's a free baby, and all is well. 

I'm not sure that the baby was happy to see us, though. The problem was, the mom is not especially tall, but our dogs are large, and they both are able to reach the baby's feet dangling down out of the carrier. And as we all know, baby feets are indescribably delicious. 

I'm happy to report there was no biting or nibbling, but there were a number of licks on the bottom of baby's socks, and I don't think she cared for the experience. Did it tickle? Did she even notice it? Was she just feeling fussy for no reason relating to the feets? What babies are feeling is often mysterious, at least until they erupt in one fashion or other. 

Anyway, I think we can agree that of all the things in the animal kingdom, mammal babies got the best feets. Bug feets, not so cute. Some bird feets are quite excellent, especially those of the world-renowned blue-footed booby, but on the whole, mammals are tops. 

Maybe that's part of the serpent's curse from Eden in Genesis 3:15 -- 

I will put enmity between you and the woman,

and between your offspring and hers;

They will strike at your head,

while you strike at their heel

And you got no cute feets!

Joining together, falling apart.

The Babylon Bee hit one out of the park again the other day: "Archaeologists Uncover Missing Chapter Of Job Where He Has To Put Together IKEA Furniture":

"We knew the suffering of Job was bad, but had no clue it was this bad until now," said Dr. Philippe Domino, professor of Babylonian Studies at Oxford. The new passage of scripture was found miraculously preserved in a bronze age IKEA catalog. He believes it may have been hidden by Jews during the Babylonian exile.

Many of us find that the more we put furniture together, the more we personally fall to pieces. I note that there is an IKEA app, but to my surprise it is just about shopping. I expected it to have a series of increasingly difficult puzzles followed by an escape-the-room game.

But I don't want to blame everything on IKEA. The crib I was asked to help assemble last month wasn't one of theirs. The friend who called said that the instructions explicitly demanded two people for the job, and his wife wasn't up to being a coequal furniture lifter. He also seemed a little daunted by the instructions. That daunted me, because he's a very smart guy and can handle complex projects. If he was worried, what would I think?

Still, the Guy Code calls on one to act when a brother needs help, so of course I couldn't wait.

The thing is, while all consumer-assembled furniture has its little joys and complications in the instructions, cribs have the highest safety standard of any piece of furniture in the house, for obvious reasons. Only something like a self-assembled oven would be worse.  

I tried to be prepared. I printed out a copy of the assembly instructions before I went over. I read it and made notes. It looked simple enough. But no, like any good puzzle adventure, it had hidden traps that would hold us up as we went. One example: The assembly required three different sizes of bolts, which were packed together and were very close in size. Well, of course we used two bolts that were too short early in the process, and you'd better believe that made a difference down the line when the 1/4-inch-longer bolts wouldn't fit. For another: The assembly was almost entirely connected with barrel nuts, which kept rolling in the wrong direction at the worst possible time. Little things like that required stopping, reconsidering, finding, and fixing on a few occasions. I entered the arena like Tool Man Fred, but left humbled, but wiser. I'm glad no one was drinking beer.

In the end we got it done, and it's a lovely piece, sturdier than my own house, a crib that the great Shecky Weeble himself would applaud. The best part about it is that it converts into a bed, so it will suit the baby until he's ready for high school, I think. I should be up to helping assemble a bed by that point.

And I'm glad IKEA doesn't make pianos. They would call them PJANK and they would be as hard to assemble as a nuclear reactor. 

The fidget menace.

I don't want to seem like I'm on a death kick this week, even though it is the start of Lent tomorrow -- dust thou art and dust thou shalt become, you know. Which is why I don't dust. It could be a pal. Or someone great, like Solomon. Maybe Nebuchadnezzar! 

Never mind. The point is, we have been facing a terrible menace in this country for too long, and it's about time someone stood up and said it. I mean, of course, the fidget spinner.

I had no idea that fidget spinners could be deadly. Good thing the fad has dissipated somewhat since its high point in 2017. 

Sure, they look harmless enough. And who doesn't like to fidget? The fidget spinner supposedly relieves stress, helps with ADHD and even PTSD, is healthier than smoking or even nail-biting, and may aid with weight loss, and is only a little more annoying than tapping your feet or clicking a pen against your teeth. It's probably less annoying than cracking your knuckles, which for some bystanders is like nails on a blackboard x 2. 

But Google recently spat a story up at me that linked to this study from the Journal of Pediatric Gastroenterology and Nutrition, a study that found danger within those silly little trinkets.  

The fidget spinner is a relatively new popular toy commonly sold without warning labels regarding potential hazards including those related to button batteries.

The 2018 study profiles two cases of children swallowing the button batteries from fidget spinners. According to the National Capital Poison Center, we've had 65 fatalities from these batteries. So the real issue is those little batteries we find in all kinds of devices, from tiny flashlights to hearing aids. 

I suppose fidget spinners that contain batteries are no worse than other objects, except that people don't tend to see fidget spinners as something with which young children shouldn't play. 

Harmless? Hmm.

Recommendations for these tend to be for ages seven and up, regardless how juvenile they look.  

I think it's unlikely that they could be dangerous to an adult. You might be in more danger from cracking your knuckles -- not because it harms the joints, but because someone might freak out and attack you. 

Be careful out there. Everyone's on edge. Maybe we should do more doodling.

Picking up chicks.

If you have a Tractor Supply Company near you, you may know that they have a lot of supplies for your farm dog. Even if your "farm dog" is a Peke named Mr. Fuzzy whom you like to dress up. Clearly, it has plenty of supplies for more typical family dogs. It also has plenty of supplies for more typical farm animals. Sometimes even the animals.

I was getting a big sack o' dog food at TSC yesterday when I discovered that these are the Chick Days. Who knew?

That ain't hay. You can actually go on their site and pick from 88 different kinds of live birds, plus whatever you'll need to keep them live. For you country boys that's just another day at the office, but for us suburb slickers, it's all interesting. And sometimes it's a problem, as you will hear in a moment.

I'm a fan of farms because I'm a fan of food; it's my favorite thing to eat. But as past blog entries have noted, I grew up in the city knowing nothing about farms, and that hasn't changed a lot. So I'm not crazy enough to think it would be a great idea to get a bunch of baby chicks and start my own egg business in the backyard. We don't have a homeowners association here, but if I tried that I think we would have one, formed for the sole purpose of making me cease and desist.

It would probably be moot anyway, as I would likely kill the chicks by accident or the dogs would on purpose.

If you are going to a place like Tractor Supply at this time of year, allow me to suggest that you leave the children at home.

A few years back, our parish school had a little farm with a handful of animals, couple of sheep, maybe a goat, I dunno. Educational for the children. But one of the kids, a softhearted child, apparently decided to save a bunch of cute li'l chicks by buying a large mess of them. Whether it was with the intent to give them to the school farm-slash-petting zoo or if her parents just made her do it, one way or another the pastor wound up with a big pile of fuzzy little chicks and no way to take care of them over the long haul.

This ecumenical crisis was resolved over a couple of weeks, as the pastor pleaded from the pulpit for anyone who would like to take some free chicks to inquire after Mass or at the church office.

Ultimately a few families equipped for this kind of thing stepped forward, and the chicks found new homes. Maybe they joined an egg operation, or were brought to adulthood and eaten; I don't know. It was probably a bit of pain for everyone involved, especially our pastor, and more proof that you should never bring children around baby anything, because they'll want to bring it home and raise it. All baby mammals and birds are cute. Even the ugly ones.

So that's my words of advice regarding chicks. I'm in no danger of acquiring any, as I said, but it doesn't mean I'm free form risk. If my wife goes to goat yoga or something, there's a fair chance she'll try to sneak a pygmy goat into the house. Wouldn't you?

Oh, boy.

Scene from the last legal gender reveal party in California before
the passage of the Gender Prenatal Nonassumption Act.

50 Excellent Baby Names.

Provided you don’t know what these words mean.

I used to work with an outfit that did a lot of baby information for mostly new, panicky parents, or prospective, panicky parents, and one of the perennial hot topics was "What to name the little beggar?" One day I drew up these lists of words that sound like they would make lovely names, but clearly would be terrible names. As always, your contributions in comments are welcome.

GIRLS

1. Glioma
2. Tibia
3. Chrysophyte
4. Atresia
5. Amnesia
6. Lacuna
7. Coprophagia
8. Phosphate
9. Armadillo
10. Magnesia
11. Carious
12. Ulna
13. Colitis
14. Timpani
15. Encephalitis
16. Patella
17. Cassava
18. Aorta
19. Abrade
20. Catatonia
21. Hernia
22. Uvula
23. Sulforaphane
24. Coenuri
25. Paramecia

BOYS

1. Avidin
2. Lithium
3. Langostino
4. Senega
5. Attar
6. Valium
7. Fluke
8. Atrium
9. Nominal
10. Suttee
11. Isobar
12. Seppuku
13. Mandible
14. Saphenous
15. Geritol
16. Arrogant
17. Ramose
18. Bark
19. Virulent
20. Rancor
21. Kern
22. Scolex
23. Scorbutic
24. Cestoda
25. Chromium

Baby name update.

We're all waiting for the boys down at U.S. Social Security to compile the lists of top baby names from 2018. I have no idea when they release these things. Fortunately we have the top names of 2017 to keep us interested in the meantime:

1	Liam	Emma
2	Noah	Olivia
3	William	Ava
4	James	Isabella
5	Logan	Sophia
6	Benjamin	Mia
7	Mason	Charlotte
8	Elijah	Amelia
9	Oliver	Evelyn
10	Jacob	Abigail

I shouldn't have to mention that the second column features the top girls' names. But these days, when having a schmeckle is no impediment to being an actual woman, I suppose I ought to. 

I have to say, I'm stunned at the choices that have arisen lately. Wolverine is #5?

When I was a boy, being an Oliver or a Mason was a one-way ticket to Swirleyville on its own. Trust me, it was hard enough to be a Fred. The only Olivers I have ever known were a man in his eighties (if he's still around, he'll be damn near 100) and the unfortunate only child of a creepy dork dad. The less said about Cousin Oliver from The Brady Bunch the better. The only Mason I ever met was younger than that elderly Oliver, but not by much. Where are all these new Masons coming from? Is this a sign that the Freemason conspiracy is on the move?

But Liam has made even greater strides over the years. And it's always nice to see good old Biblical names like Elijah and Ben and Jacob and James populate the list. But how long has it been since John and Joseph were in the top ten?

On the distaff side, I support the strong showing by more mellifluous names like Abigail, Evelyn, Amelia, and the like. All of these are lovely names. You don't have to give a girl a name like Brooklyn or Max or Tank to make her a badass, if that's what you want. She'll get there, or not, on her own. (But you just never know -- a woman I used to work with who grew up as a two-fisted tomboy expected the same of her daughter, but last I heard, that kid wanted nothing but pink dresses and tiaras and unicorns.)

Many names have been popular over the past 100 years and have sunk deep on the lists now. I don't know if I've met a Randy who was born after 1970, although perhaps the name is more popular in the South or West. Terrys, Eugenes, and Vincents are in short supply these days. Martha and Shirley have probably had their day in the sun for a while. And Amazon has probably killed Alexis. 

Sadly, Fred was not on the top 100. I feel betrayed somehow. Worse, the last time I covered this issue, I called on American moms to use great Papal names like Hilarius and Zosimus, but they rejected my idea. Betrayed and ignored.

Names should not just be a popularity contest anyway. Everyone who follows American elections closely has strong feelings about how wrong the American voter can be, and it's easier to get rid of a bad congressman than a bad name.

So here's my idea: To choose America's top baby names, get one baby of each name, put them in a big ring, and the last infant standing is the winner. Sound good? 

Blood, sweat, and pools.

I would like to congratulate the U.S. women's water polo team on its amazing 11-6 victory over water-polo-crazed Hungary in the Rio Olympics. While the men's team hit the wall against Montenegro, the women will continue today, against Brazil, and good luck to them. You may call it flag waving; I say--hell yeah!

Water polo is a very tough sport. It's a bit like basketball, with the nets, the quarters, the shot clock, the passing, and the chance for injurious contact, but you have to do it all while swimming and treading water in a seven-foot-deep pool. The quarters are only 8 minutes long, but you try it. It's exhausting.

So it should get more respect than it does. But we know why it doesn't.

It's the bonnets.

Yes, the protective headgear worn by the athletes look like baby bonnets; consequently they all look like babies.

And yet there's nothing babyish about the sport. In fact, one of the more violent games of the modern Olympics was the match between Hungary and the Soviet Union in 1956. The Soviet Union's team was a powerhouse that expected to win. The reigning champ Hungarians? Well, they were a little bit irked by the fact that the Soviets had just invaded their country to brutally quash a revolution by Hungarians who had been under the Soviet thumb since 1945. Not only were the Soviets running their country--they had also been observing (i.e., stealing) training tips from their water polo champion Hungarian subjects. So there was bad blood long before any of it was spilled.

The Melbourne "Blood in the Water" match, which literally had blood in the water, was ugly from the start, as the angry Hungarians decided that taunting the Russians was a good way to distract them. They were right. While the Hungarians endured some punches, they also won 4-0, much to the joy of the many Hungarian ex-pats in the stands. and would go on to win the gold against Yugoslavia. Then several of the Hungarians defected to the West.

There were no Olympic women's teams in water polo until 2000, because of the rough nature of the sport. Our lasses took the gold in 2012 and have hopes of doing so again in 2016. Fortunately no one remaining in the tournament has invaded any of their possible opponents recently.

Trusting the dollar store.

Reviews of products found in the dollar store used to appear on the old version of this site with tedious regularity---I enjoyed them, anyway. What I found over time was that the items I reviewed were as good or pretty close to as good as the same items found in hoity-toity stores like Walmart.

In some areas the size of the product was just smaller, making it cheaper---often $1 cereal boxes are comically small---but that's mainly in dollar stores like Dollar Tree that try to stick to the everything-is-a-dollar philosophy. (Dollar General, on the other hand, is a discounter but along the lines of an everything-is-rounded-down-to-the-nearest-dollar philosophy, which you could use to sell everything from candy bars to Cadillacs.) The quality of the products I tested ranged from Pretty Okay to Meh, with but a few Blecchs. You don't expect much; Quality is Not Job 1 at the dollar store.

And then, while waiting to check out recently, I saw this:

Uh...

Home pregnancy test from the Dollar Tree?

Hmm.

This staggered me for any number of reasons, but those reasons would include:

1) It's on the impulse-buy rack by the cashier. Is this really an impulse buy, along with candy, small lint brushes, Star Wars toys, and notions kits? One of these things is not like the others. "Oh, that's right, I wanted to get that because I might be PREGNANT."

2) Despite all the good stuff I just said about dollar stores, I think whatever drives you to want to get a pregnancy test, your #1 concern must be accuracy. You either want a baby desperately or you are horrified that you might be carrying one, but I doubt any woman is completely indifferent to whether she is with child, and if one was indifferent, then she wouldn't care enough to buy a test. Accuracy is by far the top claim made by manufacturers of these things, so it's obvious you'd want to get the best. This test might be fine... but still. CVS charges about five times as much for its store-brand test. I would think it would be important enough to spend a few more dollars.

3) The other function of the impulse counter is the larceny arsenal---the fave spot for your five-finger discounter, whether the target be candy or lip balm or anything else. I imagine a terrified and humiliated kid swiping one of these tests, scared of being seen, and running out of the store. But that doesn't explain why the store hung these here. Unless they're trying to get rid of them and they don't care if it's through theft.

On the whole I think I'd recommend sticking with the cheap cereal, peanut butter, and hand soap and leaving the pregnancy tests to the drugstores. Sometimes it doesn't pay to pinch pennies.

Railway carriages.

Last week in rush hour I got on a subway car that was horribly crowded. I barely got on. We could have used the help of those Tokyo oshiya guys.

There were not too many smiling faces among those of who saw a woman on the car with a baby in an absolutely enormous carriage.

And I mean enormous. This thing looked like an Escalade. Not sure of the brand of the baby-toting device, but to give you an idea of the size:

Very similar.

I believe the carriage had fewer airbags and cup holders, however.

Probably no one without a baby could sympathize more than do I for the mom traveling with the kid. Nobody does this for fun. Sometimes you just have to go someplace, even if it means traveling at rush hour, and you can't just leave the kid at home with a bowl of water and some wee wee pads. But it's only in the last couple of years I've seen people bringing the kids in these humongous transporters on the train. You used to see kids only being shoved along in umbrella strollers, like this one:

They're called umbrella strollers because they fold up, not because they're as poorly made and likely to fall apart like those cheesy $5 street umbrellas that pop up for sale on rainy days. Although these strollers often do fall apart just that way, I hear.

The thing is, a kid in an umbrella stroller takes up no more deck space on the subway than would an average man. That's why they are, or were, the stroller of choice way back.

This may all be connected to the fact that many of us seem to be more and more inclined to bring tons of crap with us whenever we leave the house. Snacks, gym clothes, iPad, book, phone, floss, cosmetics, ever-present bottle of water... The woman may have packed along enough food for three days for all I know. Maybe she was running away to Mom's and taking the kid. But expensive as taxicabs are, sometimes you have to spring for one.

Then again, that stroller may not have fit in a cab.

I blame the Americans with Disabilities Act. In past years you wouldn't have even considered bringing a Buick-like carriage down to the subway because you wouldn't have been able to get the damn thing up and down the stairs. But now escalators and elevators are available at most stations in compliance with the ADA, and eventually will be in all stations. That's great for the wheelchairs, but now people bring huge carriages and shopping carts, and---not kidding here---cheapass companies send delivery boys out with hand trucks stacked with reams of paper, file carts stuffed with documents, even utility carts loaded with food for catering.

Hey, the subway is a people mover, not a people plus all kinds of crap mover. Get a truck.