So I had perhaps the craziest experience at work today in which I came pretty darn close to seeing an eight-month-old baby die in front of my eyes. I’m still pretty darn shaken up by the whole thing so I don’t think I’m really going to be able to write about it for a while. Earlier tonight, however, I did record a stream of consciousness video about the jarring experience. (Note: I may have dropped an F-bomb or two in the course of telling my story, so watch out.)
I’m not sure how common it is for couples to bring their infants in to English class in Japan but I’m hoping that I won’t have to deal with another choking baby in my class every again. Seriously, I’m going to have sweaty nightmares about this day until the day I die or until Alzheimer’s blissfully erases the memory from my cerebrum. Either way, this is going to stick with me for the rest of my life like the stench of poo in the hiking boots I accidentally crapped in on one of my boy scout trips years back.
What struck me the most is how casual the parents were about it. If that were my kid, I would be crapping my pants and just generally freaking the fugg out. Are they better people than me or worse than me? I dunno.
So in conclusion, plastic kills babies, no matter how cute the kid is.