Is eating a baby wipe bad for a baby?

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July 31st 2017
Published: July 31st 2017
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Day one of 'three go round Europe' and given that we're in the right hotel, at the right time with a still intact roof box and a sleeping baby, I'd say it was a success. With the boy in nursery we had to figure out how to pack the entire house into the car, remember everything and fit roof bars and a roof box all in time to fetch him at one and head on our way. Having not realised it was the 'national panic buying of roofboxes weekend' we head stupidly assumed Mr halford and his team of friendly efficient staff would supply and fit us a nice box on our roof. Several fraught hours shopping and umpteen phone calls and we realised that we would have to go it alone. With plenty of encouragement from Barry over the road (cheers mate, keep watching and chatting, It's really helping!) And only one or two false starts (yes, the front and back bars do indeed have different bits) We actually did it. And we're still together. And the box is still on. So we picked up the boy from nursery, consoled him after committing the cardinal sin of waking a sleeping infant and trundled off. A fairly urgent nappy stop (yes, this is my life now) at McDonald's allowed us the first ice-cream of the holiday. The boy loved his taste of it (the squealing afterwards suggested a tad too much sugar!) And we headed back on the road to Portsmouth. Why did the last five miles of any journey seem to take twice as long as the first hundred miles? With a grumpy baby, now in a post sugar crash, a full bladder and a somewhat smug satnav the end couldn't come soon enough. Finally in the ibis budget we could relax......ish......first off, I know you get what you pay for but a shower smelling of a sewer, a bed made of cardboard and nowhere to park except b and q is not exactly on the ibis adverts but hey Ho, its warm, dry and close to the port. Second why oh why oh why has the boy decided that the last twenty four hours was the exact right time to learn to crawl. None of this putting him on the bed as it's soft and he can play with his toys, oh no, within two minutes, my bag was emptied in the bed, he'd found one of his chocolate biscuit things and had made the bed look like a dirty protest had just kicked off in spectacular fashion. He'd shaken my can of drink, crawled perilously close to the edge, read his book and laughed at my feeble attempts to control him. It's official, he has eight arms. I have an octopus baby. Ash could do nothing but hold his head in his hands when he came back from the car as we both pondered if it was possible to regress a child just for a few top it all off, while we both looked away for a nanosecond, he found a used baby wipe from nowhere and ate a chunk from the middle of it (perks of having early teeth, you can bite what you like!) Before we could do anything about it. least now he's sleeping like a baby, bring on tomorrow and the ferry!


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