None of What You Hear and Half of What You See.

What if you woke up today and read the following expert from a blog based out of Brooklyn.

I saw a woman pull a baby out of the trunk of her car on Friday afternoon. It was horrifying.

You see, I was at the bodega on Meeker Avenue buying some lottery tickets. I rounded the corner and headed to the park. I noticed a woman rummaging through the trunk of her car. As I got closer, I saw her lift a baby out of the trunk!! We made eye contact. I gave her a look like, “You’re a sick person!” At first she was smiling and then she realized she was busted. Her happy expression turned into one that read, “Let me explain. I can explain.”

That’s right you’ll explain, you sick bitch. But not to me. Save it for child services! THIS IS SO GOING ON MY BLOG!

What kind of sick person puts a baby in the trunk of a car? You’d ask.

Let me explain. I can explain.

We live on the top floor of a three floor walk-up. Every day I take Emory out for a walk. We visit the park down the street, the one filled with shirtless Polish drunks, men and women so wrinkled and dehydrated, the whole of their body looks like the eye of an elbow.

I take him to the swings, an enclosed area protected by a sign that reads, “CHILDREN AND THEIR GUARDIANS ONLY.” Emory loves to people watch.

In order to avoid having to carry the stroller up three flights of stair each and every day, I store it on the first floor next to the front door. On Friday, however, I had to retrieve it from the trunk of our car where it had been left the day before.

I held Emory in one arm and opened the trunk with the other. As I bent down to get the stroller, I smelled urine. “Did you go pee pee?” I asked Emory.

I touched his diaper. It was puffy. “You went pee pee, didn’t you?”

I wouldn’t call myself a lazy person but I do try and avoid unnecessary exercise while toting a 20 pound baby. My thoughts were: why bother walking all the way back up three flights of stair if I don’t have to?

We’ve changed Emory in the car on many occasions. It’s not easy. The car is small. It’s even smaller now that the back seat is taken up by the car seat. Even when you do change Emory in the backseat, it’s impossible to lay him down flat.

I looked down at the flat, clean, carpeted trunk and had a brainstorm. I was so proud of the idea, I couldn’t wait to share it with TobyJoe. This idea was so grand, it begged the question, “Why hadn’t we thought of this before?”

I changed Emory in the trunk of the car as he laughed and giggled and looked up at the sky. Changing him lately has become quite the chore. If I don’t give him something interesting to look at, he screams the entire time. But this? This was one of the easiest changing sessions we’ve ever had together. The scenery and chorus of birds amused him greatly.

Just as I was applying the finishing touches to my baby’s bum, a woman rounded the corner. At first I didn’t think anything of it, I was, after all, just changing a baby diaper. But as I lifted Emory from the trunk of the car, I saw a look cast across her face, and let me tell you, words fail to describe that look.

I wanted to explain the situation to this woman, but she seemed entirely too freaked out. Plus, an explanation may come off as my making excuses as to why I’m driving around with my baby in the trunk of a car.

I chose to ignore it and go about my merry way. I put Emory in the stroller, draped the diaper bag across its handles and shut the trunk. She crossed the street gabbing away on her cell phone presumably telling some gasping third party about how she just witnessed some crazy woman lifting a baby out of the trunk of a car.

Motherhood is slowly shedding me of any decency or care I once had about what others think. This is something I am becoming unabashedly proud of.


  1. She must not have kids. I change my kids diapers in the “trunk” area of my hatchback all the time. A nice flat space, easier than worrying about the curve of a seat to put them on. She was just looking for something to be upset about, even her writing was not convincing that anything sinister was going on.


  2. Oh dear. The first part didn’t happen. I wrote that. She didn’t write anything at all. I am not sure if she even has a blog. It was a just a “What if?” type thing.

    Also, this isn’t a hatchback at all. It’s a very deep trunk in a very old car. But, yeah, I imagine that she figured out what was actually happening. Just a funny (not ha ha?) story, is all.


  3. LOL!!! I can just picture the scene. If I’d been the woman rounding the corner, I wouldn’t have even raised an eyebrow. Heck, you could have just set the baby down so you could set up the stroller. It’s not like the car was running or anything. Heh. I use the back of the van as a changing area all the time. I have TWO car seats hogging up the second row, and no way in hell I squeeze this ass into the 3rd row, if we even have it installed (which we don’t most of the time).


  4. That was the most excellent thing I’ve read all day.


  5. Too funny! I can imagine the look on her face, but I get what you were doing. I’ve done it myself. My son was changed in the trunk of an Altima on a few occasions, and my daughter in the trunk of a Corolla. Plus a few times in hatch part of a Jeep Cherokee. I never thought about what others much have been thinking. Just made sense at the time!!


  6. THE FIRST THING I WAS GOING TO SAY is that I bet you’re changing his diaper. My best friend has a two-month-old little one and she changes him there regularly… she finds it MUCH more sanitary than some of the public options. I’m quite certain that when I have a baby, I’ll change him or her in the trunk of my car. This woman OBVIOUSLY doesn’t have a child.


  7. I feel so completely late to the trunk, diaper-changing party! I have had Emory now for almost 9 months and this technique only just occurred to me.

    Who knows, maybe her facial expression was in response to a lingering fart? Something someone said over her phone?

    Yes, chances are, she was without child. She was young, after all. (Much younger than me.)


  8. LOL – glad to see that you have joined those of us that are shameless…but i am single so i dont really have an excuse
    i (((heart))) you and really want to hear about your auto rail experience. hint. hint. for your next story…


  9. Hi. Have been reading awhile but never posted but felt compelled to share my similar experience.

    I had to change my little one in a post office parking lot and used the back of our Toyota 4-runner to do so. For some reason I climbed in and closed the hatch. Lots of room in there for mom and baby, BUT, you can’t open the hatch from the inside. So, I left little one in the back and climbed into the front to exit through the passenger door. Needless to say I also got some strange looks when I opened the back of the car and pulled out my nine-month old.


  10. Gigi: Thanks for sharing. I am glad I’m not alone!

    Is this why people buy minivans? More and more as I try and retrieve my little guy from his car seat I grow increasingly less judgmental of all those who own minivans.


  11. I’ve changed both mine many a time in the back of our cars. Both of ours are hatchbacks though so the world gets too see their behinds:) I have even been known to change a diaper in a public place (park bench) rather than use a nasty bathroom. Usually it is secluded though.

    Of course, I reached white trash mom status some time ago. I think it was when the kids and I instituted ‘car picnics’. Simone takes dance once a week and HAS to eat before she goes (the joy of diabetes). I leave work early so that we can get from day care, to Wendy’s or Chick-fil-a, dressed for ballet, and to dance by 5:30. It was always a crazy mess and I was generally yelling that I wasn’t going to do another week of dance until one day I was running so late I decided she would have to eat in the car. Went through the drive through (paying with debit because in true white trash status I didn’t even have enough cash on me), pulled over, did her finger check, and divided each up their food in the bags. Worked beautifully. The kids thought it was fantastic and we actually got to dance on time. I am sure if anyone sees us though it must look really pathetic that I am feeding my kids fast food in the car. Maybe not though—we do live in Alabama;)


  12. I’ve done this in parking lots on more than one occasion. I imagine it’s cleaner than many public restrooms.


  13. Melhow: You were feeding her fast food in the car and then taking her somewhere active! Like dance! Now, had you been on your way to the local 7 11 to buy 50 dollars worth of lottery tickets and a couple of calling cards and then back home to deposit them in front of the TV then maybe I’d give you white trash status. ;]


  14. yep – we’re long time trunk changers! In fact, I’m pretty excited about opening the back of the new Edge to change this new baby (that is, IF she ever GETS here!). With Baby D, it was the very large trunk of the very large sedan and I never thought of it looking funny before, but I guess it did!


  15. If I had a nickel for every time I changed Henry in the trunk of my car, I’d be a nickel-aire. I feel for you that this stranger thinks this about you, but it’s pretty funny to us moms.

    BTW, I love, love, love the videos you are making for your son. Such a great idea. I wish my mother would have done that for me. I miss hearing her stories.


  16. Man, I can’t believe I never thought of using the trunk for that..


  17. HA! I love this story!

    And seriously, I’ve seen worse like a car stopping next to a tree, two hands and a baby coming out of the window and said baby then PEEING ON THE TREE.


  18. I love it! My daughter is a week younger than your son and I too seem to care less and less each day what others think now a days. For me, it’s like freedom not to think so much about what others are thinking and caring for my little one. Motherhood totally changes you…for the better! I share many of the feelings, struggles and thoughts you have. Thanks for sharing!


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