Parenthood is fraught with mistakes. No mother or father would claim to have all the answers, and many would claim to know none of the answers. As much as a child lives and learns, a parent does as well. But there are moments when the mistakes come at times when it seems no one but perhaps the drunkard or the utterly self-absorbed could make the wrong decision.

Except you do. You are waiting to get your hair cut, chatting with folks, showing off pictures of the new addition. You are the proud parent. You once thought these moments were real only in movies and television shows. Then someone hands you a telephone.

“Where is the baby?!?!”

Our memory often fails us. We can’t remember our PIN numbers, our parents’ birthdays, or the due dates on our bills. But in this moment, in half a second, everything is crystal clear.

You forgot to take your son out of the car at your in-laws. He is sitting in the car, in his car seat, just outside the door of the hair salon (at this point, you quickly note to yourself that you did remember to remove a few things from the trunk of the car when you got there–but not your son). You have become that parent, the one you only read about in the newspaper, who left their child in the car, with the engine running, and the doors open. In two and half years, you have tried to be the good parent, understanding your children, learning from your missteps. You think you suceed at least some of the time.

Then you do this.

“You only read about people like this,” someone says, as you hastily gather your things.

And then you came along.

Of course, the baby is sleeping blissfully in the cocoon of his car seat, swaddled in fleece. This is of little consolation to you though. You have crossed that line, albeit quickly. The parenting books don’t have a chapter on “remembering you have an infant,” most likely because the average parent doesn’t need a primer. You, on the other hand…

In the end, it’s ok. Live and learn. You have added an item to your mental checklist–remember the kids. You won’t let this happen again. And you hope that in eighteen years, this could be the worst thing you’ve done.

Posted on 19 February 2006