Wait a minute, what happened? I could have sworn I was on the subway, sleeping in my Lacosté travel bag, piled onto Daddy’s lap and now I’m suddenly under water? What are these fish doing here in my presence? Am I really underwater? I can’t swim, I can barely float comfortably on a simple, inflatable pool boat for infants let alone be this close to deep sea creatures! Is Daddy really standing under water holding me? I’m so confused and so hungry. Maybe if I shift in this bag long enough Daddy will take me out of this water and away from these fish so he can give me a few soft-chew treats!
OH wait, now I know where I am. We’re at the 81st Street subway stop by the Museum of Natural History, along Central Park West—and this is just a seascape made of mosaic tiles. Whew, and here I thought I was gonna have to doggy-paddle myself out of this bag and away from the looming shark circling above my head! My Daddies are so silly, always playing tricks on me. It’s OK though, I’ll show them! I think tonight I’ll pee on their kitchen floor—just before either one of them get the urge to walk into the kitchen without turning on the lights to grab a bag of Utz potato chips!