Yo Quiero Un Bebe

Friends of mine, a married couple, recently had a baby. Yesterday after work, I went to see the baby. And I mean, wow. I really love babies. I don’t mean to be getting all soft on you or anything. I’m just as bitter and angry as I’ve always been. And I’m pretty sure I’m not dying (at least 60% sure). Nor have I found God or anything like that. He and I are still not anywhere close to reconciling, especially since two weeks ago I called Him at 4 in the morning to leave an angry rant on his voicemail about how quickly milk goes bad and how expensive condoms are.

And it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with babies. The're like people, only little, and filled with poop.

But I’ll tell you, maybe it was the tequila, but seeing this baby really got me. And I immediately made a decision without seriously thinking about it: I want one.

I know what you’re thinking, “Aren’t you the same guy who fell off his roof two weeks ago because he drank a bottle of shampoo and tried to fly?” Well, yes, that’s true. Although it wasn’t technically “falling off”, as I did get a pretty good running start. Just pointing that out.

All I know is that that baby was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen. Upon seeing it, I forgot about my low self-esteem, my drinking problems, my sexual, physical and mental impotence, and all those crimes I committed in Ohio, Illinois, Tennessee, Oregon, Washington, Pennsylvania, and New York from 1988 until 1995. And three times last week.

I realize that in order to have a baby one most procure the help of a real live woman. All I can say about this is that I’m working on it. I won’t take any further questions, because they are just too painful.

Two side notes about my baby experience:

1) Everyone came to the new parents’ house with gifts for the baby: clothes, stuffed animals, toys, etc. I showed up with a bottle of Grey Goose. Some people made fun of me for this, but I thought this was perfectly acceptable. Who needs a gift more: the baby who’s been sleeping, eating, and pooping every three hours or the parents who have been harried and sleepless since its birth? Johnny: 1, Others: 0.

2) There was a lot of talk about how expensive baby clothes are. I think this is kinda moot. Why would you care what your baby wears anyway? The baby doesn’t have any idea what it’s wearing, so why not just drape it in old t-shirts for the first few years? Of course, you can start buying the child clothes when it gets school-age, maybe five or six, because you don’t want him/her getting picked on. But in the meantime, why not save the cash for other crap and fit him in your old Zeppelin shirt? Seems pretty simple to me.