Timer Travail, OR Why I Never Go Anywhere

Following in Ben's footsteps with the Rocky and Bullwinkle style title... :) Chloe and I played a fun game this morning (well, mostly Chloe): The Grab-Whatever-Mama-Has-And-Put-It-In-Your-Mouth Game. It's cool, you should try it! Orange juice, oatmeal, kitchen timer... Ooooooo, kitchen timer! While it didn't reach her mouth, Girl Who Can't Throw managed to sweep the timer off the table like a backhanded tennis ball, and it is now an ex-kitchen timer (See rooster photo, left. Understandably tempting, desu ne?). This ushered in a grand adventure, as I quickly discovered that I am incapable of doing chores without my timer (story for another day, I suppose, but here's a hint). So I grabbed the wee babe and popped her in the carseat, thinking that we would take a quick trip to the 100-yen shop where I'd purchased the last one and be back in half an hour. BWAhahahhahaaaa! (That's a diabolical laugh.) First I couldn't figure out how to get to the 100-yen shop. I mean, I knew exactly where it was, but it was on the other side of a divided road and several long intersections later I still hadn't figured out how I was going to get to the other side. Five minutes to the 100-yen shop + 20 minutes trying to get into the parking lot = 25 minutes. So far, not so good. Did I mention that we were trying to beat the naptime countdown? As we finally pulled into the parking lot, a suspiciously inauspicous aroma began to waft up from the backseat. Have I mentioned that the Dear Child had not pooped in nine days? Have I mentioned that the Dear Child has impeccable timing? Do you see where this is going? Yes, there was unchi. On the baby. On the mommy. On the carseat - oh yes, really on the carseat. On the trunk of the car, where she was changed. I have to admit, at this point I was laughing ruefully. If you can't beat them, join them, right? Bwahahaaa, hahaa, hahummmm. The diaper change was nearly complete when a chattering of ladies hastened over to admire Chloe. "Kawaiiiiiii!!!!" ("Cute!") they cried, "How old? What is her name? Kawaiiiiii!!" Unfortunately, Chloe finds the kawaii-shriekers fairly KOwaii (scary) as a rule, and started to cry. Bwahahahaha. Oh, and the 100-yen shop didn't have any timers. I ended up walking to Jusco (where I'd considered parking to begin with, but decided it'd be too long of a walk for a hot day) since naked Chloe (did I mention that this was the one time I didn't have an extra onesie with me?) was now asleep in the Baby Bjorn anyway. I've never seen a naked Japanese baby in public and imagined many disapproving eyes upon us, but nobody said anything to us - nothing I understood, anyway. :) Good thing, 'cuz I was ready with the smackdown. An hour and a half, 780 yen, and one blistered foot later we pulled back into the garage just in time for one of our birdie neighbors to poop on our unusually-clean windshield. The fruit of our labors: one pretty kawaii Hello Kitty timer, which I do think goes quite nicely with my Pooh Bear sewing machine. And yes, I am now too tired to clean the kitchen.