I'm at my parents' house, babysitting about five younger children, ranging in age from about six or seven to a tiny pink swaddled one, which I am holding in my arms. I think the baby needs a bottle of milk, but I'm not sure what to feed him. There is milk in the fridge, but that doesn't seem right, it's cow's milk and it would be too cold for him. Is there some formula somewhere, or something?

The baby starts crying and choking, and coughs up several pieces of ice, small cubes like you'd find in a cold drink. I think that is odd, and I turn him over and pat his back, and he barfs up even more ice, a whole belly full. I start looking for the source of the ice, and find even more in his wrappings.

Further investigation shows that the ice came from a baby-roller, one of those things that lets them stick their feet out and pre-walk, while keeping them away from obstacles and upright. It is full of ice water, and the baby has been spending most of his time in it. That doesn't seem right. I pour out all the ice and warm the baby up.

So I call mom on the cell-phone. I say "this baby has been living in an ice-bath, that can't be right, can it?"

She answers that yes, you are supposed to keep babies in an ice-bath to ward off infections. I still don't buy it, and offer in support of my position that just since I warmed him up, he's grown up about three years. He's grown dark hair, and is walking and talking. That ice bath must have really been stunting his growth.

As I'm talking, I'm having trouble hearing mom on the other end, first because of all the older kids playing and making racket. I go into my parents' bedroom, which is dark, but after a minute I notice some movement in the bed and realize that my dad is sleeping in there. I go into the living room, where the TV is blaring, but I turn it off and it is quiet. Then Keta comes in from the kitchen and turns it back on - apparently she was listening to it while cooking.