No matter how much I loved my babies, there are certain indelible sensory memories I do not wish to recall. Being a person who has always been profoundly affected by music, I may never recover from the scars left upon my psyche by certain Fisher Price equipment.
Like this aquarium.
Just five seconds of one of the saccharine, watery little ditties this thing played (ad nauseum) during those torturous, sleepless nights and screaming nap strikes and, well…I can just smell the baby spit up.
I swear this thing emits a baby spit-up odor. Can you smell it? Can you smell it?
Well, Violet seems to have exhausted herself by the effort of smacking that button over and over. For now, her folks can fall into a dead sleep, with dreams haunted by certain gargling tunes…
Dream with the fishes, wretched aquarium.