We have a sign at Naru.
It says: "Please don't kiss my baby."
It's going up near the swings — the spot where families usually stop to take photos. Cute backdrop, good lighting, and now, a very honest reminder.
I didn't put it there because I wanted to be edgy. I put it there because of something that happened when Jordan was two months old — and because I know I'm not the only parent who has been in that situation and completely frozen.
CNY, a newborn, and a kiss we didn't see coming.
It was Chinese New Year. We had gone back to my parents' house, and a very close family friend came to visit. The moment she walked in and saw Jordan, the whole thing started — you know exactly what I mean. The "ang gugu", the "aiyaya", the "ohhhh, who is the handsome boy??" with that soft, delighted smile that only a baby can unlock from a grown adult.
We totally get it. We really do. Babies do something to people.
But right as she was leaving — while my mom was still holding Jordan in her arms — this aunty leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
And my mom just… stood there.
Stunned. Frozen. Didn't know what had just happened. Didn't know what to do or say. The aunty said her goodbyes, walked out the door, and was gone.
The moment she left, my mom rushed to find me.
"Quick, get the baby sanitiser. The face one. Go."
(Yes, we are now selling a safe-for-face sanitising water from Kath & Belle at Naru, for exactly this kind of moment. But that's a story for another day.)
I was shocked. My mom was shocked. And then I got thinking.
Because here's the thing — this wasn't a stranger. This was someone close to our family. Someone who meant absolutely no harm. She was just… showing love. The way she knew how. A kiss on the cheek.
But Jordan was two months old. His immune system was still figuring itself out. And we had all seen the news. We had all lived through COVID. We all knew, on some level, how something so innocent could turn into something serious really quickly.
And still — not a single one of us said a word.
Not me. Not my mom. Not anyone in that room.
Why? Because we didn't want to be rude. Because we weren't trained for it. Because it happened so fast. Because she's close family and you don't just… say things like that to people you love.
I kept thinking about it afterward. How many parents have been in exactly that spot? Holding their baby, watching someone lean in, wanting to say something but not knowing how — and then just letting it happen because the moment passed too quickly and the words never came?
A lot, I think. More than we admit.
So I made a sign instead.
Because a sign can say the thing you can't — but make it cute.
It's not a warning posted on the door. It's not a stern notice. It's a photo corner. The kind where you gather everyone in, squeeze the baby into frame, and someone's always blurry because they moved. Except now there's a sign in the shot that says exactly what you've been thinking this whole time.
You snap the photo. You post it to the family WhatsApp group. And suddenly, without a single uncomfortable conversation, everyone has seen it.
Message received. No drama. Good lighting.
That's the whole point, really. Not to call anyone out — just to give parents a way to say it without having to say it themselves.
To the aunty who kissed Jordan that CNY —
No hard feelings. You were showing love. We know that.
But also — now there's a sign.
Ru
Co-founder, Naru Play Café
Parents, this one's for you. If you've been in that same frozen moment — you're not alone, and you're not rude for wishing you'd said something.