Sometimes I Want One

Today was Monday, the day before I move out of my room, the day I would spend packing up mountains of accumulated shit, discarding clothes I haven't worn since the last ice age, and organizing boxes of things I will inevitably throw out when I get back from my grand adventure. Also I would clean my floor, dust the furniture, scrub the bathroom, and generally make my room pleasant for The Subleaser. Needless to say, it was sunny and hot and beautiful, and none of that shit got done. Instead, I went over to my friend JB's house to play with her and her wee man child, who happens to be more beautiful than any angel God ever even thought of. Kid you not. He's ethereally good looking. And sweet tempered. And probably, on top of it all, wildly intelligent, although it's really too early to tell. Honestly, some people get all the luck. I mean, seriously. Look at this smile.



Cute, right? But he's also completely cool. I mean, look at the way he sports my sunnies. This kid was born to be a ladykiller.



"Heya, toots, whatcha doin' after?"

I think he gets his good looks from his mom. Also, do you see that look on his face? I think he's listening to a secret inner voice telling him that he's destined for greatness.



"I hear you, O Mysterious Voice. Allow me but the time to grow, and I shall fail you not."

JB is a very good mom. So compassionate.



Well, the compassionate bit was a joke because that picture was just too funny (look at their faces!), but in all seriousness, it's amazing to see her now, and remember her then. Then, she was a normal human being who needed two hands and two arms to do everything. Now, she's amazing. I watched her singlehandedly make a bottle, bake cupcakes, and talk on the phone, all at the same time while she was holding the wee one in one arm. I bow low before such skill.

Most of the time I'm fairly content to be single, childless, free to wander. In fact, it's not a lifestyle I'd give up for just any old thing, which would explain why I routinely set new world records for "World's Shortest Relationship" and "Long Term Commitment to Fear of Commitment." But sometimes... just sometimes.... ONLY sometimes... I see something as completely adorable as this little baby, and all of the sudden I want one. I want one real bad.

Mostly, I want one so that if mine ever has a little heinie as cute and perfect as this little heinie, I can pat it and take pictures of it without feeling vaguely creepy. Look at this little heinie! JB and I laughed our pants off today when I noticed that his butt crack goes up to his waist. If his name were Reginald Quakenbush, I'd start calling him Reginald "Crack To His Shoulders" Quakenbush. If his name were Jebediah Sassafrass, I'd start calling him Jebediah "Crack Attack" Sassafrass. (Say that one out loud. It's unspeakably wonderful.)



CRACK ATTACK!



Oh, my God, I'm dying of cuteness.