It would appear that once we go shooting a child from our no-no bits (or having them torn from our stomachs)- out with it goes the majority of our common sense. I suppose it could JUST be me, but I like to pull everyone else down with me to make myself feel better. Don’t judge.
Maybe it’s that new baby smell, the lack of sleep, the constant ringing in our ears from the shrieks of little balls of pink baby, the lack of adult conversation and outside stimulation, an overload of Hanny Manny and other mind-melting bullshit programming we’re forced to sit through. One, any, ALL of the above- something just snaps the moment that baby comes out of us and is placed into our arms.
I think that switch is called “crazy”.
If you’re not following me, riddle me this: If we weren’t all completely batshit insane- why would we find something like that crumpled bright red half-grimace, half-smile face a baby makes while filling a diaper with hot seedy liquid shit so damned adorable? It didn’t matter that we knew that the end-game would be. It didn’t matter that we knew we’d probably end up wasting half a dozen wipes just trying to clean up the utter destruction that was our child’s ass region- any time we saw that face, we knew what it meant- and we LOVED IT.
Awwwww, that face! Look at that face! That face is SO cute!
No. Just no.
If it was a grown man or woman shoving out a stuck-in-the-butt turd into their pants- would you be giggling? This isn’t Jackass, people. Crapping yourselves ain’t right.
Still not following? Then I present to you the case of baby spit up. We’re not talking a full on vomit fest to where you’re drenched in the stomach contents of a tiny child and are completely mystified as to how it ever contained so much- but just a little burp and a teensy spew. Especially when it happens on someone else.
Awwww, teehee! That’s so silly! Silly baby! Did you just have a little wet burp? Awww
No. Seriously. No.
Would you feel the same way if it were another adult who burped liquid onto your tit? Yeah… I didn’t think so. But suddenly, you’re holding your very own ankle biting vaginal discharge and it’s just the cutest damn thing you ever did see.
What about cursing? A four letter bomb falling out of your precious creation’s mouth is enough to… ok, well that’s just fucking hilarious, sorry. It’s hilarious until they’re shouting “FUCK” repeatedly in public… but i’m betting that would be hilarious to every parent other than you. Well, not the judgy ones- but the awesome ones. Yeah, it still counts as funny- let me move along to another example.
Today, today is what I will use for prime example #1, for those not believing me in the total mindfuck that is parenthood.
My wee child, the wee-est of children- Parker. No one can resist his gigantic dimpled cheeks and nonsensical speaking habits and made up curse words. It’s impossible.
Today, my demonseed took two of those horse heads with the sticks jammed in them that you’re supposed to obnoxiously ride around the house neighing and whinnying, flipped them upside down, and starting plowing his way through a GIANT 6 foot floor puzzle with them… all while singing “Row Row Row Your Boat”… only instead of singing “row”- he sings it “Whoa”..
So, you have this little Buddha-bellied dimple-cheeked not-yet-3 year old, swinging upside down horse heads on sticks through your kitchen and singing “whoa whoa whoa your boat!”
What’s that feeling? Oh that’s right
It’s SO adorable!!! Only it’s NOT! HE’S MAKING A GIGANTIC FUCKING MESS! THERE ARE PUZZLE PIECES BEING FLUNG EVERYWHERE! AND GUESS WHO HAS TO CLEAN IT UP?
What’s that you say? It’s STILL cute?
I rest my case: Insanity.
Or I guess some people might call it “love”… po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe.
The fact that the wine section of Wal-Mart is directly next to the baby section cannot be an accident.
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