Damn you, Carlos!

The driver of the Little People bus is named Carlos. He's got a seventies mustache and disco hair---now that I think about it, he looks like a tiny, plastic Ron Jeremy. Also, neither of his hands is free to actually drive the bus. I think he's holding an apple and what looks like a pie server but I'm guessing is a crossing guard-type sign. But I digress: Carlos, in addition to his other features, also (apparently) has a seat that triggers the noises of the bus. I discovered this last night while talking on the phone with my sister and absentmindedly putting the Little People back in their bus (they were strewn across the floor as if Samson had created some tremendous accident scenario while playing). So I put Carlos/Ron into his seat and the bus croaked to life --- lights blinking and a tinny electronic chorus of "The Wheels on the Bus." I sprinted to another room, but it was too late. From the dark, and heretofore quiet nursery, I heard Samson stir and then cry out. He was up, and I looked at my wife (who by now had come up from our basement to investigate the spontaneous burst of "Wheels") and pointed damningly in the direction of Carlos. She didn't buy it.

Lots of people read books and magazines to prepare for parenthood, but I think the basics are (usually) self-evident. I think, in this instance, the Fight Club model will do: the first rule of sleeping babies: you don't wake sleeping babies. The second rule of sleeping babies: you DON'T wake sleeping babies.