this is the first baby i’ve ever met in my adult life. i think the last time i held a baby was when my youngest cousin was born; i was 12. i’ve met my other cousin’s kids, two little half-italian ladykillers called lucas and nicholas, but never as babies. they were wearing real underpants by the time i met them.
little noah is my friend jesse’s baby. he was 18 days old when i met him. he doesn’t do much. as i held him, someone asked me “aren’t you just dying to have one?!”
babies don’t like good music, or alcohol, or trying new food (i bet babies don’t like oysters at all). they like milk a lot. i don’t. i also hate loud noises at home, yelling, and plastic toys look cheap and cluttery. so no, dear woman, i am not dying to have one.
the only time i EVER think kids are cute is when they are tiny little kids playing hockey. like the four-year-olds. oh man, i can’t explain it, but they kill me. little monsters on ice.