Rock-a-bye, little cribby (and don't come back!)

I have bad news and good news.

The bad news is that Bineet and Sarita are going home.

The good news is that they’re taking our baby crib with them. The humans can finally be rid of a $300 investment that the kids in this household never used, not even once.

I still remember the day dad lugged the honey-oak crib upstairs to the master bedroom, seven years ago, and assembled it one steamy afternoon, while a heavily-pregnant mom hovered over him excitedly. She disinfected the new crib with baby wipes, layetted it in Elmo bedding, hung a baby mobile and stared at it lovingly for the next month or so, willing the baby to be born.

Baby arrived and hated the crib. Mom thought it was the Elmo bedding and replaced it.

Baby still cried.

Mom thought it was the location. She made dad dismantle the crib and reassemble it in the nursery this time.

Baby still cried.

Mom made dad dismantle it again and reassemble it in the master bedroom, this time moving the crib to the other side of the bed.

Baby still cried. Dad refused to dismantle the crib again.

The baby bed stood, empty and unclaimed, in the master bedroom for the next few years, rapidly becoming an eye-sore and a serious toe-stubber in the middle of the night, while the marital bed morphed into a family bed.

For a while, the crib relocated to another friend's house, but was back again when our family expanded. The new baby reacted to the crib in much the same way her brother did - only more vociferously.

The crib relocated to another friend's house a few months later, and finally made its way to Bineet and Sarita’s home, from where it’s about to relocate again – this time across the seven seas - to Bangalore.

I think it’s safe to presume the humans aren’t planning any more family additions. And if they do, this time they’ll bypass the darling crib with the must-have layette at the local baby superstore and wisely invest the money in Kimberly-Clark shares.