Babies are scary.
These last few days, I've been in contact with too many.
What's so scary about it?
It's like the little fuckers know I'm not very happy... and that I'm actually quite disappointed in humanity.
So what do they do? They act all fucking adorable and loving... and actually provoke me to play with them. Little monkeys.
They flash me this giant smile the moment I walk through the front door... do this crazy little cute thing with their eyes, they basically speak to you-- the eyes, the twinkle in them.
I don't know how they do it, but I suddenly find myself chasing after them, playing tag.
Tonight, one of the little ones (none of these babies can speak yet. I must admit, this is my favorite stage of a kid-- old enough to walk and run around, too young to talk and express thoughts. Once they start running their mouths, I try much harder to avoid them) dared to have a staring contest with me. Little fucker DID. NOT. BLINK. He was making this angry face... you know, staring me down. Once I blinked, fucking kid SMILED and tossed me that "Nahhhh! I was just kidding! I'm not angry!" face... the playful, sarcastic little punk.
I'm not baby crazy, I still stand firm in my stance of NO BABIES!
... but I do appreciate the creepy sixth sense shit they have going on... especially how they act upon it, and proceed to try and change my shitty mood.
Babies have made these last few somber days of mourning and praying into something entertaining... lighthearted. I actually kind of look forward to seeing their stinkin' little faces each day. SO weird.
Babies... que lindos.
These last few days, I've been in contact with too many.
What's so scary about it?
It's like the little fuckers know I'm not very happy... and that I'm actually quite disappointed in humanity.
So what do they do? They act all fucking adorable and loving... and actually provoke me to play with them. Little monkeys.
They flash me this giant smile the moment I walk through the front door... do this crazy little cute thing with their eyes, they basically speak to you-- the eyes, the twinkle in them.
I don't know how they do it, but I suddenly find myself chasing after them, playing tag.
Tonight, one of the little ones (none of these babies can speak yet. I must admit, this is my favorite stage of a kid-- old enough to walk and run around, too young to talk and express thoughts. Once they start running their mouths, I try much harder to avoid them) dared to have a staring contest with me. Little fucker DID. NOT. BLINK. He was making this angry face... you know, staring me down. Once I blinked, fucking kid SMILED and tossed me that "Nahhhh! I was just kidding! I'm not angry!" face... the playful, sarcastic little punk.
I'm not baby crazy, I still stand firm in my stance of NO BABIES!
... but I do appreciate the creepy sixth sense shit they have going on... especially how they act upon it, and proceed to try and change my shitty mood.
Babies have made these last few somber days of mourning and praying into something entertaining... lighthearted. I actually kind of look forward to seeing their stinkin' little faces each day. SO weird.
Babies... que lindos.
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