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the rectangle. When we later got one of these as a gift, I followed the instructions to the letter, but still ended up with some sort of post-modernistic sculpture/collage of plastic, metal, and mesh netting, which, while totally uninhabitable for infants, is currently on loan to the Guggenheim.)
    The jewel in the baby product crown is the stroller. And if in America you are what you drive, then in Parentland, you are what you push. This department had its own salesman, and as soon as he saw us, the guy swooped down like a vulture in a bad tie.
    â€œHi, how are you two this afternoon?”
    â€œWell, we’re actually just looking.”
    â€œOf course . . . Well, you obviously have an eye for quality.”
    â€œWe do?”
    â€œAbsolutely. This stroller you’re looking at here is considered the Cadillac of strollers.”
    â€œHoney, did you know that strollers have a ‘Cadillac’?”
    â€œI didn’t.”
    â€œOh, yeah,” the guy says. “Check out the wheelbase on this baby. And the plush interior. Your baby will be riding in the height of comfort and safety. Believe me, when people see you pushing this down the road, they’ll say, ‘Why, there’s two people who really care about their child.’ ”
    This is a guy with an easy job.
    I don’t imagine there are a lot of jobs easier than being a baby-store salesman, simply because you can’t say no to them. You can’t negotiate. If you walk into Planet Tinywood and a salesman tells you, “You don’t need the high chair with the extrasafe support lock, but it is safer”—what are you going to say?
    â€œThank you, sir, but we’re gamblers by nature and are curious to see if our infant doesn’t do exactly as you predict and slide right out on his head, crashing violently onto the hardwood floor. That’s something we’d like to see . . .”
    And you can’t believe how many different types of strollers they have. One for every conceivable occasion. You have your heavy-duty, everyday stroller; your pack-up-and-travel umbrella stroller; your “this-is-only-good-for-going-from-the-car-into-the-mall” stroller; and the very popular jogger stroller—which when I first saw I thought was pretty cool, but after having a child, I have come to view as more of an irritant. Because when you have a newborn, you realize, “Who has the energy to jog?”
    It’s my opinion that even conceptually , going from a “stroller” to a “jogger” is a move in the wrong direction. What we need is a “napper.” A big Bed on Wheels, pulled by a team of hefty Akitas. You get to rest, the kid sees the world, and the dogs get walked—it’s a win-win-win proposition.
    And if I can be honest here, when I see someone actually jogging with their baby, I always feel the need to give the parent a little smack. Because if, after being up all night with your baby, you still have it in you to run around the neighborhood pushing something, I don’t need to know about it. (And if you’re so peppy, I see no reason why you couldn’t accept one tiny little smack in the head from me.)
    Ultimately, I say, “What kind of nut runs in the streets with a baby, anyway?” That can’t be good. Even just walking, I always thought it kind of perverse that people push their kids into traffic ahead of them. The premise is, apparently, “If it turns out to be safe enough for the baby, I will then step forward myself.” I think they should design a stroller you drag from behind , or one that attaches to your side , so at least you’re both taking a risk.
    But I digress.
    Back in Youngster-burgh, we meandered through the first five or six acres of strollers and cribs and playpens without incident, and then came upon a section of stuff I never even knew about: baby exercise products. These contraptions are no doubt well