That Pre-Drool Shine

Pre-Drool Look

Zane warming up for another day of drool. Drooly day? Truly drooly duly day. By the time we pulled this outfit off at the end of the day the top three inches, of both layers, were soaked in drool. I suppose it could be worse, he could be writing viruses for the russian mafia or selling furniture.

Ever since I finished the family room, and even before then, we’ve been shopping for a couch. Yesterday we headed out, drooly baby in tow, to take another stab at it. On previous excursions we’d leave Zane in the car seat and I’d lug it from couch to couch, with Zane sleeping through most of it. Yesterday we hit the first store with baby on my shoulder. This was the most expensive furniture store and, oddly, the most laid back: no sales person tailing us, just smiles and a brief “let me know if we can help you.”

Other stores put a sales person on you from the get go, maybe retreating to the shadows from time to time or tag-teaming with another sales person or the manager, but you are seldom left alone.

I imagine them thinking, “That baby better not projectile vomit on my lovely showroom!”

In this store Zane and his mom and I simply wandered from room to room and couch to couch all by ourselves. By the time we made it down to the cavernous basement showroom Zane was starting to nod off. I had him resting on his back in the crook of my left arm and he’d managed to cock his arm such that the palm was resting on cheek, as if he was resting his head on the arm. Very cute. He even had me considering a covert nap.

We found some interesting couches, but nothing that perfectly matched our ever-changing criteria, so we left and went to another place. Since Zane was asleep in the car seat I hauled that around the store. We found a couch/loveseat/recliner that is decadently comfortable and covered in micro-fiber, everything else was a little too firm or too soft or too ugly. We are trying to take into account a drooly baby who will graduate to dirty, sticky, messy, slobbery baby over the coming months and years. This tends to have us looking at leather couches, but most of those haven’t been as comfortable nor affordable.

We left the store without buying anything, putting the decision off for yet another day, and headed off to Salt Hill for lunch. Even though Faith and I ordered first Zane was the first to eat. He then danced to some Creedance, chewed his knuckles, played with his clicky butterfly toy, and passed some time googling at people in the restaurant.

And drooling. Always with the drooling.