The Key to World Domination

So, you want to thwart your enemies, eh. Good for you!

“But Lois, where do I begin?” you might be wondering.

I’ll tell you what to do. You get them a cute baby.

No one can get anything done while toting around a cute baby. An army of cute babies could bring a nation of despots to their knees.

Women get a taste of how babies can bring your day to a halt when they’re pregnant.

“Hi. Can I have a decaf, nonfat, grande latte please?”

“Ohhh! Congratulations! When are you due?”

“Thanks. October. How much is that?”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Your first?”

“No, my second. I have a 2 year old son. This one’s a boy too. Do you take debit cards?”

“Oh, two boys. You’ll have your hands full. Do you have a name picked out yet?”

“We’re not discussing names with anyone prior to the birth. I’m sorry…I’m in a bit of a rush. I have to get back to work…”

“I have two boys and a girl. Patrick, Devin and Melissa. The first two pregnancies were easy, but the third—oh boy, did I have hemorrhoids! Boys are so much easier than girls. My Missy, when she burned down the high school cafeteria, wow, was my husband angry…um, what did you want again?”

And the corker is you can’t just tell them to f*%k off and make your damn coffee, because pregnant women are supposed to be glowing and jolly, like Santa with swollen ankles.

It only gets worse after the baby arrives, because now the baby is working in concert with the rest of the world to thwart you.

Yesterday, Dan-El awoke an hour early from his nap. To thwart me, of course. Since I knew I’d be able to get no work done for the next 90 minutes until the sitter arrived, I foolishly thought I’d be able to make a quick trip to the mall to pick up some summer clothes.

Quick. Yeah, I’m an idiot.

I drove to the mall, found a parking space right away, loaded the tyke into the stroller, zoomed to the store and at lightning space tried on the clothes I’d seen in the catalog that I wanted. I waited in the short line to pay and then everything screeched to a halt.

“Will that be cash or—oh, he’s adorable!”

“Thanks. Store charge. Here.”

“He’s so cute. Are you gonna smile for me? Are you gonna smile? Oh, come on, give me a smile. What about a smile?”

Dan-El looks at the woman like she’s a moron.

Then another saleswoman has to get involved.

“Oh, what a cute boy you are? Are you gonna smile? Is that a smile? Are you tired? Is it time for a nap?”

The baby looks at the second goo-goo-ga-ga-er like she’s an even bigger moron than the other saleswoman.

“No, he’s hungry. We’re both hungry, in fact. As soon as we leave we’re going home for lunch.” Like an idiot, I think this will clue them in that we want to get out of the place and, oh, go home to eat lunch.

Nope. This goes on for a few more minutes until the woman finally starts ringing up my order, pausing between scanning each item to talk to the baby.

I get home a half hour late.

Cute babies. Our nation’s secret weapon.

Happy Friday.