The engines on a 737 must be a lot louder than what I’m used to; as the plane was taking off this afternoon, the high decibel whooshing starting to put me to sleep, but as soon as I realized it was the noise that was so hypnotic, a dreamlike image immediately began to crystalize in my head . . . it was a giant-sized profile of a greasy-haired pediatrician, remarkably similar to Dr. Harvey Karp (pictured), floating over my shoulder and vigorously shh-ing into my oversized adult ears. I was immediately jarred back into consciousness, as the very thought of his sweater-vest-and-tie ensemble was startling enough to return me to a fully alert and on-guard state.(Ever since we watched the Happiest Baby on the Block, I've been wondering if the infants had enough fashion sense for the vest to somewhat offset his otherwise earnest efforts at calming them.)
Although I appreciated the sheer survivalism embodied by his theories, I’ve now resolved that that was my first and last video on babies. I can’t bear the future risk of imagining myself being swaddled by him. Or maybe I should just take cues from this. For the next flight, I could insist on laying on my side/stomach while I ask another passenger to jostle me vigorously as a calming technique.
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