Immunity

I am reasonably sturdy regarding my baby Olivia. If kids want to gather round her and touch her little hands, I don't completely sieze up like I used to when Jake was an infant. I feel confident that a side benefit from breastfeeding O for eight months is a killer immune system that could tolerate a bag o' spinach. We won't discuss whether that is fair compensation for the fact that my breasts now require an engineer-designed pulley system tucked neatly into my Wacoal's.

The other day tested my germ-compatability to its limits. I was in line at the airport to get a Coke to drink, and noticed that there was a woman in front of me alone with her little toddler son. He was repeatedly sticking his hands down into the backside of his pants and furiously digging around. "Mommy," he whined. "My butt hurts." She kept retracting his hand and checking for a poopy diaper--if I had wanted a hamburger at this point all desire would be squashed--and trying to distract him. "Justin," she whined back. "Please keep your hands out of your pants." Out of your dirty behind. She made no move to exit the line and hit the bathrooms which to me seemed an appropriate decision.

"Justin, look at Mommy. Uh, Justin look at the lights. Oh, oh, Justin," and here's where apparently my family steps in to assist her, "Look at the baby!"

Justin turns to see Olivia and I behind him. O, in her stroller and unaware of the E-coli incident occuring directly in front of her, smiles and waves. Justin rushes towards us, hands outstretched, and without hesitation, I whip her stroller around me so fast that Olivia goes lurching backward into the seat.

"Justin, don't touch the baby." Her words were on my side, the side of reason, logic, and propriety, but her glare at me showed how she really felt about me. She threw me some really nasty looks until my coke arrived and I ran off with Olivia to board the plane.

And you of course know the rest, that she was on my plane and two seats behind me.

Word to the wise...if you have a ticket on Continental, seat 19B, bring some Lysol.