Why Didn't That Gerber Baby Ever Grow Up? And Other Non-Mysteries

Babies are interesting. There is a much better way to describe babies, but I'm worried about the rapture on Saturday so I feel like I don't have time to flesh out all of my thoughts. Babies come from the body of another human and kind of just squirm around. Even though, I love that some kids think that babies come from storks. A stork! Has anyone ever seen a stork? Anyone? Now all of a sudden it's delivering babies and ending the world orphanage crisis? I mean, come on kids, read a book or something. Where is the outrage that a bird would deliver a baby already in a cloth diaper? We all know babies come from alcohol, bad decisions, and an unattended janitor's closet at your local PTA meeting. Kids, go to school and stop being so stupid.

Babies are also very dependent creatures. Change them, feed them, bathe them; they are very demanding and I don't appreciate it. No one tells me what to do especially mini humans with terrible communication. I'm terrified of babies. Not in the same way I'm terrified of zombies or a Margaret Cho Comedy Central special, but in the way that I don't want to ruin anything, mainly the baby's life. When people tell me to hold their babies, I start sweating profusely, getting the shakes and excuse myself to the bathroom for 2.5 seconds of dry vomiting. God forbid you hold the baby wrong because the mother will come at you like Edward Scissorhands when he sees some unmanicured shrubbery.

"Ok, Rahul, sit down. Now make a cradle. Support his head. Keep the blanket on so he doesn't get cold. SUPPORT HIS HEAD. I SAID SUPPORT. What are you doing? Do you want him to go blind? Leave the blanket on! Am I not saying SUPPORT HIS HEAD LOUD ENOUGH? Give him back to me. You've traumatized him for life. He'll probably be a serial killer."

Rahul 0 Self Esteem -143

As I get older I'm surrounded by more and more people having created these tiny human lives. They are so happy to have created something so joyful and a mini representation of themselves that they post updates on Facebook, send you e-mails about how little Megatron ate a 43 month old Frito off the floor, and start photo albums so you can enjoy every step of the journey. New parents are ecstatic to tell everyone about it. I just have this to say.

I don't care about your baby.

Outside of the first time you see said baby, every passing moment I lose interest. This just in parents. Babies don't do anything. NOTHING. You don't not have a baby making stock market decisions out of his crib while you're sleeping. So after I've seen your baby the first time you really don't have to keep me updated on whether Baby McBaberson laughed today. I'm giving you permission to keep that to yourself. Believe it or not babies all look the same to me! I know! I'm racist. Showing me a picture of them does nothing for me at all especially if I've already seen them. The next time you need to check in with me virtually about your little bundle of joy is at these age markers.

5 - Almost a fully functioning human. Also gives insight on future cuteness
10 - Probably cursed you out at least once by now
14 - Awesome school stories/you found a condom in their room
18 - If it's a girl, call me
21 - Let's get wasted, see: 18

Babies are on the same plane as your fantasy sports team and gambling losses. It makes for a great story in your mind, but if it's not happening to me then let's move on and talk about something we actually have in common. Like last week's 90210. I'm a single man. I don't have estrogen. If you tell me to look at your baby the most likely response is, "oh, that's cool." That's right, I describe a baby the same way I would describe graffiti in the Lincoln Tunnel or a cardboard cutout of The Fonz.

Let’s be honest for second, I’m not the only one that feels that way. When we say, “How’s the baby,” we’re just doing it because we have nothing better to talk about with you. We don’t really WANT to know about the baby because this gives you free reign to complain about how you get no sleep, your significant other didn’t change them on time, and/or some awful poop story that would only be featured in the Readers Digest section: “Seriously, You Didn’t Have to Go There.” I don’t want to hear any of it. You had sex. You didn’t use the various methods of birth control our delightful country makes available to you. This was your decision. You do not get to complain to me about no sleep. Deal with it. If I stuck my hand into a hornet’s nest without a glove, got stung so many times I needed it to be amputated, I doubt people would say, “Oh, you poor thing.” They would say, “Way to be dumb, dummy.”

Deleted scene of My Girl.

Maybe when I trick some woman into having my child I’ll feel differently, but I probably won’t. I won’t need to share my baby’s photos with all of my friends. If they ask then I’ll show them. There’s no need to bombard people with pictures of tiny humans they didn’t birth. No one really was wondering what your baby looks like from 3 months to 6 months. We were actually wondering why the bartender didn't put more wine in our glass. They may seem eerily similar, but it's not. We’ll get over it.

But if you have a stork picture, I’ll take it.