Who could not love them, insomnia, pea-sized bladders, annoying whines, dirty diapers, brain melting sobs and all. I mean, look at how thrilled they are to be entertaining their mother.
It takes the baby about five seconds after attaching the clown nose before he remembers that he can also breathe through his mouth. He looks at me like, holy shit you pitiful excuse for a mother are you laughing whilst I cannot breathe? His hypothalamus or whatever that automatic brain thing is takes over and he draws a humongous breath while glaring accusingly in my direction. Before his wee brain is all duh, hey babycakes, breathe through the other hole in your face, he shakes his head back and forth kind of like when you put peanut butter in a dog’s mouth, or boots on a Labrador, or shoes on Cue after he’s gone barefoot in the tropics all winter. All of the above crack my ass up. A cruel streak a mile wide runs through my sense of humor.
He’s fine, he’s so happy to be out of that pumpkin.
I called my mom and told her the clown nose/baby breathing story (choked it out actually around my helpless laughter) and she was horrified. “Stacey,” she gasped, “please do not tell the blog people that you think it’s funny when your baby can not breathe.”
“Mom! I don’t think it’s funny when he can’t breathe, I would be horrified if he couldn’t breathe. I think it’s funny that he can breathe and doesn’t know it.” Hello, important distinction. Besides, the blog people (cue spooky music) are fun, nonjudgy parents with a sense of humor. Right? I’ll show you…anyone want to share the funniest ever so slightly cruel thing you’ve ever done to your child?
(Help me out, blog people, my mom is quick with the I told you sos.)