An Epidemic of the Tiniest Proportions

Everyone is having babies. Pregnant. “Prego,” cutely stated. “It’s an epidemic,” I told my boss, as I set out for Babies R Us for lunch.

I’m a baby person as much as the next guy. I’m an animal person, and I’m a baby person, and as long as they can sit still for three hours and nine innings of ball, I have no further comment on the issue.

However now, if this pertains to you, I mean you no disrespect. But as a non baby owner, there are some wrongs I’d like to right. Setting sail around the world spreading the gospel of someone who knows nothing about babies, and, you know, how it ought to be.

A visit to Babies R Us, just as the last time I went in 2008, is an absolutely bewildering experience. If I’d eaten this, and drank this, seen a smoking caterpillar, perhaps more sense it would have made. But I just had bad Panda Express, and the regret, coupled with the confusion, might have toppled me over the edge. The point I’m trying to make, perhaps I can only make when I just come right out and say it, and stop trying to be fancy what with my fancy language and fancy words is: I know nothing about babies.

I hold them and they look uncomfortable.
I listen only enough to straight forwardly say, “I don’t understand you baby.”
The last time I changed a diaper I put it on backwards. The mother asked if I was going for a thong look.

I was.

I know nothing about babies. Except that one day I’d like to have them/one/I’ll figure it out. In the meantime I have a lot of time to judge, and have opinions, time I most properly would not have if reversed.

I do not need to know the details of labor. Nope. Don’t.
I do not need to know the contents of your baby’s diaper.
Your kid is so cute. Really. But so are you. Please put your photo back up on social networking sites.
‘We’ are not pregnant, you are.
‘We’ are not going in to labor, you are. He’s gonna hit up the cafeteria, make some phone calls, and be back for the photo op.

But with this, comes assurance someday when I have them/one/I’ll figure it out, I’ll give you too much information and think ever burp and diaper is noteworthy. I’ll replace my picture with the fetus’ and remember if only by distant memory those days, when I had enough time to sit back, have opinions, and a laptop free of throw up.