Babies.
Fucking babies.
I don't see what the big deal is. Like, I don't particularly hate them, because they're new to the world and have done nothing to me personally. However, at best, I only tolerate them in the most ideal of situations. Most ideal situations being they are quiet and haven't shit themselves yet. The minute that child opens its mouth and starts wailing, all bets are off. I am planning a feast of baby-back ribs.
I never know how to react when people ask if I want to see their newborns, because I'm usually thinking "I'd really rather not," but, apparently, people take offense when I don't act like they are the first person in the whole fucking world to give birth. Honestly, all babies are pretty much the same. Squirmy little lumps of pink flesh with big heads and too little hair. And God forbid I am asked to hold one. It's like handing me a car engine part and expecting me to have any idea what to do with it. My first instinct is to leave it lying somewhere for someone else to find and deal with. It's just intensely awkward for everyone involved.
So, congrats and all, but don't expect me to fawn all over it.
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