Throughout history, capes have been worn by royalty… superheros… awesome people. My assumption is that these individuals dawned capes because of their sheer brilliance. Well… the other day, I was ranting and raving about how downright disgusting mealtime has become in our home. One of my readers (and dear friends… who I know is a genius… because we share the same name) suggested I invest in a cape.
No… not a superhero cape… but a shampoo cape, from the local beauty supply store. FREAKING GENIUS! I hopped in the car and cruised (because that’s how I roll… I cruise) over to Sally’s. I wandered in circles until a kind soul offered me some assistance. She led me over to the cape section (sounds way cooler than it is) and pointed out three options for children’s capes. (Though, in retrospect… I should have also picked up and adult size for my husband. Christmas is coming… he can wait until then.)
Here were my options. 1.) A super cute silky cape. ERRR… no. Food would soak through that in an instant. 2.) A bright cape, super flimsy… kind of felt like a kitchen trash bag. Too destructible. 3.) A teal vinyl cape, covered in faces… sturdy… and machine washable. YES!!!
I got home, stuck Munchie in the Bumbo (screw the highchair), and velcroed the cape around his little neck. In went the first spoonful. Out it came. This time, instead of trying to stop the food from getting on Munchie, or his highchair, I just let it roll. In goes spoonful number two… chew… make a face… out comes half of it. Okay… half is doable… we are making progress. Third spoon scoops up more oatmeal… heads for Munchie’s mouth… NOOOOO!!! Munchie’s fist, covered by the cape, heads straight for his mouth, smearing oatmeal ALL over his head. I pull his fist away and the pretend plane lands in his mouth.
The feeding session continues in such a manor. When all is said and done? Some food made it in. Most food landed on the cape. A large majority of the food covers Munchie’s head. No food has made it below his neck. No food is on the table. No food is on the floor. I wipe Munchie’s face, take the cape off, and head upstairs. Munchie goes in the tub. Cape gets hung in the shower and sprayed down. Munchie gets scrubbed.
While a serious amount of cleanup is still necessary… the cape is a success. I did not have a dining room to scrub down, a high chair to hose off, or clothing to wash. Our cape, or feeding tent, or food poncho… whatever you want to call it… was an incredible investment. We are officially awesome cape people.