Friday, September 03, 2010

Beauty Is In The Eye of The BeerHolder

Tyler and I have been postulating about our future children(s)’ appearances and we decided they’re probably going to look like glorious cherubs, then coast through life floating on a fine mist of adoration and love from everyone they meet.

I’m nearly certain of it.

That, or they’ll have my profusion of pelt-like body hair, Tyler’s webbed toes, a cloud will pass in front of the sun and the nurses will run out weeping when they’re born. Right now I'd say it's a 50/50.

What I want to know is: if you have ugly kids (you're not fooling me - I know some of your kids and they’re pretty rough and gangly) – do you know it? I know your kids are ugly, but do you? I'm not so sure you do because people keep telling me: "All babies are precious and beautiful" and it's got to be one of the most fabulous lies I've ever heard.

In case you're wondering - your baby? It looks wrinkly and weird and I do not want to hold it. I've seen cuter Anacondas.

Are parents incapacitated by their parental nature?

Lets face it - to get ugly people you have to have ugly kids. It has to be done. Somebody has to take one for the gene-pool-team, so to speak, or everybody would be Cindy Crawford. We can't have that, can we? If everyone were Cindy Crawford we'd never get to experience the miracle of two horrendously-eccentric-looking people producing a future supermodel - and that's one of my favorite things.

Is there anybody with unfortunate-looking progeny out there? Do any of you look at your kids every now and then and just cringe? You must, or headgear would never have been invented. Think about it: you paid to have a metal bar strapped to your kids face; sometimes in public, and for YEARS! And to top it off - it hurts!!

If that's "love" I want a daily thrashing.

Lets hear it - I want to know before I have kids: Is there magic that makes me not know what my kids look like? I want that magic and I want it fast because I’m not getting progressively deeper as I age - that's been confirmed.

I had a (very beautiful) friend in college who used to say she didn’t want to have kids since she'd be unable to tell what they'd look like beforehand. She was afraid she couldn’t love a fat kid.

That’s a quote and yes, I'm fairly certain she'll go to hell when she dies.

She has kids now, interestingly enough - and they are not fat, but they are so damn ugly it makes my teeth hurt. Fortunately for them: she seems to love them just fine, or if not "love" - at least she hasn't sent them downriver in a bullrush basket. Not yet anyway. So, it must be love. Either that, or she’s faking it - and it's tough to fake love. I should know; I had a girlfriend who did it for years.

Ignored Warning Sign: she always smells like her ex-boyfriend.

So what’s the deal? Do you really think your chubby, pimply, little sausage-fingered Oreo-stuffers are beautiful, REALLY? Or are you secretly horrified by the fruit of your loins?

Any comments posted by my Dad will be immediately deleted, so don’t even think about it.

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