When my first born was 2 weeks old, I was bound and determined to get a haircut. I loaded him up in the car seat and away we went. Somehow I got lost along the way and was late to the appointment. In a rush to get inside, I grabbed the car seat and walked briskly into the building where I promptly slipped, tripped, and slid across the room. I dropped the car seat, baby and all. I lunged for the seat, pulled it towards me, and began checking to see if I’d broken my baby. I then sat bawling on the floor of the hair salon because I was certain that he would never recover and that I'd scarred him for life. Of course, the baby was fine. The worst thing that happened was he woke up!