I’m really getting sick of babies.

A lot of people might not like what I’ve got to say, but if you’re really honest with yourself, you’ll realize that babies don’t contribute anything positive to society. It’s time someone spoke up. And let’s face it, babies had it coming.

1. Babies destroyed Facebook. Facebook used to be the best place to go and see photos of my friends doing topless beer bongs. But now it’s overrun with photos of their babies’ every movements. Look, little Gracie turned over! Look, little Gracie shit her pants! Look little Gracie ate a crayon! I’m sick of it. If people wanted to see someone piss all over herself and stumble through the living room trying to eat crumbs off the floor while using the coffee table for balance, my webcam probably would have been more successful.

 

"I pooped in my cage."

2. Babies ruin happy hour. It’s bad enough my girlfriends can’t shut up about what kind of breast pump works best — but then I’ve got to listen to the whole “potty training drama.” These parents are freaking out and I’m like seriously, it is not that difficult. All you have to do is keep the kid locked in his kennel for a few hours while you’re at work and he will learn not to shit where he sleeps. It’s common knowledge that they don’t like to defecate in their sleeping space. Next time he poops his pants, just swat him with a rolled up newspaper and put him in the backyard. He will learn eventually.

3. Babies inhibit proper judgment. My friend was telling me about this guy she hired.  He’s called a “lactation specialist.” Seriously? Lactation specialist. First of all, it sounds like a fetish magazine. Does this job title not send out red flags for anyone else? And how do you even get that job? What does his resume say? I’m a boob man?

 

Adorable.

4. But the truth is, I’m jealous of babies. The thing I hate most about babies is that babies get away with so much stuff that the rest of us can’t. Think about it. Junior dribbles some pureed carrots on his onesie out in public and you let him run around for a few hours in his diaper. But when I spilled coffee on my shirt at work the other day and spent the rest of the afternoon shirtless, it suddenly became an “HR issue.”  Babies can projectile vomit and we don’t even call it puke. We call it “spit-up” and it’s adorable. But when I have one too many vodka tonics and “spit-up” in Aunt Ruby’s purse, suddenly I’ve ruined Thanksgiving dinner. It’s just not fair.

But despite my hatred of babies, I’m actually a very good babysitter.

Ok, I’m not a very good babysitter. But kids love having me as a babysitter. I show up at the house and I’m like, “Ok kids, I’ve got enough Red Bull to last us through the night. Who wants to play with throwing stars?! And then later we can finger paint!”

I’m just kidding. I would never let kids finger paint.

*This is the first of a series of blog entries I’m reformatting from their original form in my stand up comedy performance.  There’s just too much I wanted to talk about that I couldn’t fit into five minutes.