Just Make a Right at the Ugly Baby...

My mom held a little dinner party at her house last night for the upper echelons of WOG. She forgot to include an address in her original email though, so people kept asking me if it was at the Big House… so, to avoid Dad having to feed unexpected guests cereal for dinner, I sent out the following email to all of the invitees:

Hello all,
So, it has come to my attention that my beautiful, wonderful, crazy mother forgot a key piece of information in the below invitation. If you were planning on attending this exciting event, it might be helpful to know where it is being held. Although my mother obviously thinks that everyone should just magically know where her home is (she is the center of her own universe, and expects nothing less from the rest of us), I think it might be helpful to send out some directions.

Her place is the last house on the right before the round-about. It should come as no surprise that her house is the prettiest on the block.

Although I will try to convince her to put a large cardboard cutout of herself in the front yard, with a sign that says “Cindy C., Queen of Entertaining”, I make no guarantees. Therefore, you’ll just have to rely on the address.

If you have any other questions, please contact her… and tell her I sent you.

Thanks,

The one, the only, Alexandra B

I included her address and a Google Map, but I won’t on here, in case Crazy Stalker Clown is reading… bad Crazy Stalker Clown.

It was nice to sit outside with my coworkers, chilling out, eating food, and listening to Mike discuss the different properties of heat…


I guess you just had to be there.

There was also a woman there who is 8 months pregnant. Her kid was moving around like crazy in her tummy, and freaking us all out.

It was some serious Alien shit.

It was NOT natural.

She would be talking, and her stomach would just move because his little knee was poking out or he was trying to elbow her in the ribs. I think that he knew we were watching him, because he was tap dancing like… a tap dancer on crack(?).


We then talked about how having a nice looking baby is really hit or miss. Although lots of babies are cute, a whole lot more are just plain scary looking. They sort of turn out looking like a wet rat… or like this.

It really has nothing to do with how attractive the parents are. Some beautiful people create some really cursed looking children. And some really sad looking people can make a lovely child. Plus, some ugly babies turn into gorgeous specimens of adults.


So the father-to-be last night was really funny. He was the one who said that it’s a real crap shoot how your kid looks. He also thought that my Alien reference was fitting, because he thinks it’s really creepy when his wife’s stomach moves as if independent from the rest of her body.


He had a great idea if he gets an ugly kid (I guess him and his wife were not the most darling looking babies… but they’re really hot now… so that’s good).

He wants to walk up to people and go goo-goo-gah-gah over his ugly mutant of a child, saying Isn’t he just the cutest thing ever? Then, when people say, through awkward smiles and gritted teeth that, yes, he is just adorable, he can yell at them for being dirty liars…

Although I think that he was just going to think the last part, not actually yell at them, like I would. But that’s why it will be years (hear that all: YEARS) before I’m allowed to procreate… it would increase my sarcastic ammunition ten-fold.

Though my kid is going to look more like this.

Still hairy… but beautiful.



AFTERTHOUGT: I forgot that the woman whose eggo is preggo also told us about her birthing class, where they referred to the moment when the head crowns as The Burning Ring of Fire...

Um... adoption is looking better and better. Pregers said that if she had any doubt before about using drugs, that threw her over the edge. I want an epidural now just thinking about that ring of fire.

The daddy to be said that he's going to bring his Johnny Cash CD into the delivery... and she said she'd kick him in the jaw if he did. Those are my kind of parents.