Sunday 11 July 2010

Bad Dad

We dropped into the Bluebird Cafe today to have lunch with all the Chel-ras and Euro Trashies.

Having secured a table outside on the packed terrace, I undid the straps on Madeleine's car seat, pushed the handle back, and exchanged a glance of mutual appreciation with a couple on the table next to us who also had a very young baby with them, before tucking into my burger.
At some point - it's still a bit of a blur - I decided to pick up said car seat and bring Madeleine a little closer to us both.
Having pushed the handle back for viewing purposes, I had inadvertently created a weight distribution imbalance and having also undone the straps for wiggling purposes, the car seat tipped forwards dramatically.
And Madeleine face-planted onto the astroturf floor.
Cue the most blood curdling screams I'd certainly ever heard, as the whole restaurant turned towards the commotion in unison.
But most damning moment was the evil stare from the mother at the next door table, who even went so far as to cover her child's face from the Bad Dad sitting next to them.
Mortified.

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