Motherhood FAIL of the Week: Germs R Us

I'm pretty sure that I have unintentionally exposed my son to Typhus simply by taking him to Target.  Since I don't have any childcare to speak of, I end up dragging the Muffin Man with me almost everywhere I go.  Yes, it would be much easier to go to the market or the police department or the mall alone, but since I'm pretty sure I would be arrested if I left my nine month at home to fend for himself while I was out buying toilet paper, Noah gets dragged along.

Last week, we had to go to Target.  Now that Noah is old enough to sit up on his own, he can ride in the little seat on the grocery carts.  Always one to plan ahead, I registered for (and received) a shopping cart cover.  This little item seemed super practical - you just slip it over the seat and the handle of the cart - and voila a germ-free shopping experience for you and your little one.  The only problem is that trying to put this stupid fabric cover onto the cart while also holding a wriggling baby and a diaper bag that weighs 20 pounds is not the easiest task in the world.  After struggling with the cover for about ten minutes and finally determining that no, in fact, it does not fit onto Target's over sized carts, I decided to do the next best thing and wipe the cart down with the sanitizing wipes offered for customer use.  Feeling very grateful that the Target corporation understands that their carts were more than likely used as someone's home at one point in the recent past, I dragged myself, my son and all of our attendant bags over to the sanitizing wipe display... only to discover that the jar was empty.  I am a resourceful and determined woman, especially when it comes to shopping for discount designer clothing (I'm looking at you, 3.1 Phillip Lim for Target), so I figured a wipe down with a couple of baby wipes wouldn't necessarily sanitize the cart, but would at least get rid of a layer or two of the most recent germs.  Well, my friends, once again I was out of baby wipes.  I had six extra t-shirts, a pair of socks, and a jar of baby food in my diaper bag, but not one single wipe.  How I can, in good conscience describe myself as a Mother and not have baby wipes on my person at all times is beyond me, but somehow I was rolling without a wipe to be found.

As I stood there in Target, I weighed my options: I could either put Noah into the germ-filled cart, hope he didn't catch anything, and purchase the paper goods I needed, or I could bag the whole outing, go back to the car and face taking the kid out later in the day to a different store where the shopping cart cover fits the carts.  Honestly, people, I just couldn't do it.  The thought of having to go home, regroup, and then go out again to a different store made me so tired that I about fell asleep standing on my feet in the middle of the West Hollywood Target.  I took a deep breath, stuck my kid into the seat without any protective gear, and hoped for the best.

So far he seems to have survived our trip to Typhoid Target without catching any type of strange infectious disease, but I've been doubling up on his probiotic dosage just to be on the safe side.  Hey, I have to make up for my negligent Mothering choices somehow.