Leaving the House With a Baby or Toddler: An Olympic-Level Scam
Leaving the House With a Baby or Toddler: An Olympic-Level Scam
Leaving the house with a baby or toddler is not an outing.
It is a military operation that somehow still ends in tears, forgotten items, and public shame.
You will not “just pop out.”
You will never “just pop out” again.
The Delusion Phase
You think:
“We’ll be quick.”
You sweet, stupid optimist.
You begin getting ready an hour earlier than necessary and are still late.
Immediately:
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The baby needs a feed
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The toddler suddenly needs a poo
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Someone removes all their clothes for reasons they refuse to explain
The Bag That Eats Your Soul
You pack the bag.
Nappies.
Wipes.
Snacks.
Spare clothes.
Another spare outfit because you’ve been hurt before.
You forget the one thing you’ll desperately need.
You will only realise this when it’s too late.
Shoes: The First Boss Battle
You attempt shoes.
The toddler:
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Wants the wrong shoes
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Or no shoes
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Or ONE shoe, spiritually
They scream like footwear is a personal attack.
You say “we’re going now” in a voice that suggests you are lying to yourself.
The Sudden Emergency (Every Time)
Just as you reach the door:
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The baby spits up everywhere
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The toddler announces “POO”
-
Someone needs a drink they will not actually drink
You stare at the clock, whispering:
“This is why we can’t have nice things.”
The Car Seat Cage Match
You strap them in.
They go rigid like you’re trying to fold a deck chair possessed by demons.
Someone arches.
Someone screams.
Someone removes a sock mid-strap.
You break a sweat.
You lose a year of your life.
You Finally Leave (Brief Hope)
You’re in the car.
You feel powerful.
Capable.
Free.
Then someone drops a snack.
Or screams.
Or falls asleep five minutes before arrival.
You grip the steering wheel and breathe like you’re in labour again.
The Public Meltdown
You arrive.
Your child immediately:
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Refuses to walk
-
Lies on the floor
-
Screams like you’ve ruined their life
Strangers watch.
One smiles sympathetically.
Another judges you with their eyes.
You mouth “sorry” while dragging a furious potato-human through a doorway.
You Forget Why You Came
Once inside, you realise:
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You forgot the thing you needed
-
You hate being here
-
Your child wants to leave immediately
You buy nothing.
You regret everything.
Getting Home: The Final Insult
Back in the car, your child passes out instantly.
Peace.
You consider just driving forever.
The Brutal Truth
Leaving the house isn’t about enjoyment anymore.
It’s about:
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Proving you still can
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Getting fresh air legally
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Pretending you’re coping
You return home exhausted, traumatised, and weirdly proud.
Because you did it.
You left the house.
Everyone survived.
Barely.
And honestly?
That’s a win. 🏆
