Diaper Bag Incident by Carol Wells
One weekend Frank and Carol decided to tour Washington DC. Since their son was only a few months old, at the time, they took along a diaper bag stocked with bottles of formula and diapers. The trip uneventful until...
Right after the birth of our son, in 1997, Frank and I spent a few months in Princeton, New Jersey. Originally, Frank's assignment slated to last around 4 weeks but it turned into almost 4 months. One October weekend we decided to take a day trip to Washington DC.
As with any tourist to the nation's capital city, we went by the White House. We decided not to go on the tour of the White House, particularly after seeing the long line. "Let me take a couple of pictures of the White House then we can go to the Lincoln Memorial," I said while handing him the diaper bag.
Two people, waiting for the White House tour, allowed me to step in closer to take a picture. "Excuse me, but you are not allowed to do that," a woman dressed in a uniform informed me while I was starting to aim my camera.
I looked around confused, "Not allowed to do what?"
"Not allowed to cut into the line," she replied with a serious expression.
"Oh, I am not doing that." I said while showing her my camera. "I just wanted to get a picture of the White House."
"Which you are not allowed to do while we are conducting tours of the White House," she replied while maintaining a serious expression.
"But, I don't understand," I looked at her curiously, "I am not interested in the tour of inside the White House but just wanted a couple of pictures of the outside...."
"Ma'am, I don't care if you want to take one or thirty pictures of the White House. What I do care about is that you are attempting to do it now. You are not allowed to take pictures of the White House while there is a line for the tour unless you are in the line."
Ok, I admit that I did not understand this rule and, given the expressions of others in the line overhearing this conversation, no one else did either. Nevertheless, the woman made it clear, in words and body language, I was not going to take a picture of the White House at that time so I went to rejoin my husband. "Did you get a good picture," he asked while handing me the diaper bag to carry.
"I am not allowed," I replied while tilting my head toward the guard watching to make sure I was not thinking about trying 'cut into line' again. He looked at me with a confused look, "Something about while people are line for the tour that people not in line cannot take pictures of the White House or so the guard told me," I explained.
"You got in trouble with a White House guard," he asked.
"No, I didn't get in trouble," I replied. "Just told people cannot take pictures of the White House while there is a line. Let's find out when the tours end so I know when to come back for a picture."
After checking the schedule, I took a picture of Frank and our son by one of the signs then made our way around the Ellipse. "Get me a bottle out of the diaper bag," I asked Frank when our son started to fuss in the stroller.
"What?"
"He's probably thirsty; hand me one of the baby bottles inside of the diaper bag," I reworded.
"I don't have the diaper bag," he replied. I looked up in shock and sure enough, Frank was empty-handed. "Did we forget it in the car?"
"No, because we changed his diaper since leaving the car," I reminded. "Let me think now..." I rattled off the places we had been to so far that morning.
"Oh God, please tell me you didn't forget it by the White House!"
"That's the last place I remember carrying it," I replied. "I set it down to take that picture of you two in front of the sign..."
Frank started half-running toward the White House, muttering something about Secret Service agents. I pushed the stroller while our son shared that he did not care to discuss Secret Service agents but in getting a bottle. "Do you realize how long ago we left that area," Frank sarcastically asked over his shoulder.
"Well we stopped for a soda, bought a cute pop-up tour map, took a few pictures of the US Mint, so I would say around 45 minutes to an hour ... so yes, I think I know how long ago." He sent a daggered-look to me over his shoulder.
There at the corner of the sign, where I snapped a picture about an hour earlier, was the white bag with animal prints and blue trim waiting for us. "Damn, do you know how lucky you are," Frank asked while handing the bag to me. "You just can't leave things lying around, especially here of all places!"
"Frank, everything is fine now. We got the bag," I replied while still trying to catch my breath. I retrieved a bottle and gave it to our son who started happily sucking on the contents.
Frank crossed his arms and glared at me, "Carol, you already had a guard tell you to not to take pictures. Do you think you would make brownie points by having the guards or Secret Service seeing a bag with bottles but no one around it? You are lucky because they could've called in the bomb squad and blown the bag up for being suspicious."
"Well that would be silly," I replied.
"No it wouldn't be silly at all. They would be doing their job."
I deepened my voice while giving Frank a mock salute, "You are safe, President Clinton, Sir; it was just EnfamilŠ with Iron." The small group of people eavesdropping in on our conversation chuckled, which their reaction to our conversation didn't have Frank feel much better about the bag being left behind originally nor the sprint back; but did help to spur him to drop the lecture as we started crossing the Ellipse [again] toward the Lincoln Memorial.
Rest of the day he made certain that the diaper bag was present and accounted for at all times. We also managed to stroll back by the White House, without a tour line or a certain guard in sight, for a couple of pictures before leaving! Overall, a fun excursion ... except for Diaper Bag Incident; which I am reminded of every time I misplace something.
About This Story's Author:
© 1999-2006 Carol Wells
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