Yes, the giant, navy blue mesh playpen in my dining room does set off the adjacent wall quite nicely. It’s also a good place to toss toys in a hurry for unexpected company. I can block off the doorway with it to keep the baby (and whoever else) out of the kitchen while I’m cooking. And it makes my dining room feel so much bigger when I take it away. It does all of those things.
But the primary purpose of the playpen — brace yourself — is to be a safe place for me to put the baby. The trade off is supposed to be that I give up eight square feet of floor space and subject myself to a constant eyesore in return for a safety zone. It’s a place in which to plop her while I run to the bathroom or cook dinner or catch up on my Fox news love life tips. (If ever you follow a link from my blog, this should be it. Read the comments and die laughing.) Whatever. It doesn’t matter what I am or am not doing; the point is that she should be safe in her playpen. That’s why we have it.
So imagine my dismay when I find my baby repeatedly gagging on something while sitting in her playpen. At first I hoped she’d sort it out on her own, but eventually I had to stop gluing coins to the bathroom floor and taping over the computer mouse to check on her. And what did I fish out of her wee little mouth? Garlic skin. WTF?!
How did garlic get into the playpen? Why on earth would anybody do that?
Oh, that’s right. Vampire baby. As you were.