The Odyssey

About two months ago, we realized that whenever our daughter is riding in the car with us, she faces the back of the car and it must therefore be extremely boring for her. Since she craves stimulation every moment of her awake life, we decided something had to be done.

Belive it or not, there is an entire class of products specifically designed to combat this exact situation: mirrors. By attaching a mirror to the back seat of the car, the driver can look into their rear-view mirror, thereby seeing into the additional mirror and being able to stare at the baby. I'm pretty sure that if a third mirror were somehow incorporated into the car, we could travel through time, but I digress.

So, we decided to pursue our dream and purchase one of these mirrors... but quite simply, I had no idea we would have to journey into the depths of Hell to make this dream a reality. Here are several parts of this tragic endeavor that make no sense to me:

1) Have you ever shopped at Babies R Us? I'm pretty sure that to be an employee at this store, you have to somehow survive the following grueling interview:
- Interviewer: Are you alive?
- Job Applicant: Yes.
- Interviewer: Good! Do you have any references that can vouch for your intelligence or offer proof that you graduated from 2nd Grade?
- Job Applicant: No.
- Interviewer: Well, I can't say this "officially" until I get approval from HQ, but welcome to the Babies R Us family.

2) After spending fifteen minutes trying to find an employee to help us locate a mirror, we finally stumbled on to them ourselves. To be honest, they all look like crap. These things don't look anything like real mirrors. They basically look like somone put tin foil over a curved piece of colored plastic. I couldn't recognize myself in the "mirror" even though I was standing three inches away. I had no idea how I would recognize my child from four feet away, while driving! Anyway, after spending another fifteen minutes in line, we were finally able to leave the store and head home.

3) We tried to install the mirror in the parking lot. This was impossible because we didn't have a screwdriver. Why would we need a screwdriver? Becasue the battery compartment is kept shut with a screw. Why is it kept shut with a screw? Because that is what Satan would do. When I got home, I counted up all of the things in my house that have battery compartments; there are 8,012 of them. Know how many are so fragile that they need to be locked in place with a screw? None. I can understand things like cabinet doors, shelves, furniture... those things need screws to stay together. The only thing a battery door does, is come off! Why would you lock that in place with a screw?

4) So, we finally got the mirror home and installed batteries. Drum roll please... the mirror didn't work. The songs don't play; the lights don't light; frankly the only thing that works properly is the battery compartment door. Back to Babies R Us for a different model.

5) At least this time we knew where to find the mirrors and we picked up the Lexus of baby mirrors. This thing even has a remote control. Naturally, it takes 6 batteries to work, but the good news is that this mirror actually worked! Interestingly, it has no on/off switch or clear controls, but the remote control can at least change the song that is played so that we don't kill ourselves.

6) Everything was fine for three days. At that point we learned that our mirror was haunted and every ten minutes, right in the middle of an otherwise tranquil tune, an ear-piercing noise that sounds like an elephant making a mating call and being hit with a small tactical nuclear weapon would escape the Devil machine. It scared the baby and nearly made me drive off the road; every single time.

7) Trip #3 to Babies R Us consisted of returning mirror #2 and demanding that someone bring me a screwdriver so that I could demo mirror #3 before I left the store. Twenty minutes and a package of batteries later, it became clear that mirror #3 didn't work either. In a fit of rage, I said to the salesperson, "we're not buying this, it doesn't work." I have to hand it to the Babies R Us customer service staff. In the face of my obvious anger and frustration, which of the following was her response:

A- I'm sorry sir, let me run and get you another one.
B- I'm sorry sir, let me get my manager to see if we can get you a discount on a working model.
C- I'm sorry sir, why don't I call the manufacturere and enlist their aid in a designing a product that doesn't completely suck ass.
D- Umm, ok.

You guessed it, D. I could understand if the janitor didn't really care about our problem. I could understand if a cashier didn't really care. But, maybe Babies R Us should train the employees that handle their returns, to care a little that their products are horrible and the overall shopping experience could accurately be compared to Pearl Harbor.

** Notes to my daughter:
1) Don't work at Babies R Us. People will assume that you are medically brain dead and will ultimately want to hurt you.
2) If at first you don't succeed, fight the urge to kill someone.