It’s estimated around one-hundred and thirty-four million babies will be born in 2013. Of that one-hundred and thirty-four million, some of those babies are gonna be ugly. That’s not me saying that, that’s just the math. Now, if you’re in college you may not know what I mean, if you’re in your mid-twenties you may be seeing the first ones, but by the time you’re in your late-twenties you’ve seen enough to know there are some ugly babies out there. What? There are. By the time you turn thirty, your Facebook feed is so full of baby photos you can pretty accurately guess how old any kid is at first glance. Social media is making us more fully aware of the life cycle. We see it all now from the womb to the tomb. Whether you have one or not, by your late twenties babies enter your life full force. Those happy-faced little life-changers are suddenly everywhere. It feels like everyone’s popping out a kid. And some of those little pride-and-joys are not lookers.
So what do you do when, say, a friend of a friend, someone you meet at a party tells you they just had a baby and this is, like, the first time they’ve been out since they had their little love muffin? And then, before you can ask how old he is or what the kid’s name is, they pull out their iPhone to show their bouncing ball of joy, and when they hand it over to you, that’s when you see their kid looks like a lumpy loaf of whole wheat bread. I mean sometimes the kid will be so ugly you wanna smack the phone away. What? Oh, come on. Lighten up. You know there are babies out there dogs don’t want to play with. I know it’s messed up to say a baby’s ugly- and I don’t say this… to the parents. But you and I both know we all have some thoughts that make us glad no one can hear what we’re thinking. It’s okay. Some babies are ugly. And they may have bright beautiful souls, and grow up to cure cancer and repel an alien invasion, but in the crib they were a funny-looking creature.
And I’m not talking about anything other than a perfectly healthy baby, the ones that have all their fingers and toes, but still they look like their mother had an affair with Don Rickles. To make sure I wasn’t just being superficial about these babies I asked my friend, Derek, for his opinion. He’s not a doctor or anything but he’s funnier than anyone else I’ve ever known, and there’s always great truth in a laugh, so I trust him implicitly. Not only did he agree there are ugly babies out there, he and I texted back and forth some of our worst thoughts we have when confronted with a particularly funny-faced child. So, you know, for all those moments when someone pulls out their phone to show you their little bundle of love and it turns out to be a blanket full of funny-looking, maybe you’ll remember one of these answers and spare yourself that moment when you awkwardly pause at an unexpected sentence break, “Oh my… Doesn’t he look like… his father.”
If you’re the type that gets upset that I call a baby ugly, I don’t really know why you even clicked on this, but you probably shouldn’t read these ten suggestions because it’s only gonna get worse.
Generally, when you see an ugly baby it’s best if you pick the first aspect of the child that catches your attention and comment on what you like. Simple and easy. And that way you’re expressing your honest appreciation of the unfortunate child.
So… okay, imagine you’re on the balcony of a friend’s apartment, at a party, it’s not loud but it isn’t quiet either, and their neighbor’s girlfriend is out there with you. Suddenly, she pulls out her phone to show you a picture of her brand new nephew- OMG! Her brother’s kid! Boom! You see the picture. This baby looks like Elmo had sex with a bag of potatoes. She’s standing there holding her phone and smiling at you, a proud aunt. You can’t hesitate in that moment. That would be rude. This exact moment, and ones like it, is why Derek and I drew up the Top 10 nice things to say about an ugly baby. You’re welcome.
First, there’ll be your initial reaction- what you want to say (but don’t).
And then there’s the alternative – what you should say.
What you want to say: You do know it’s illegal to fuck an orangutan?
What you say instead: Wow. He sure has a full head of hair.
What you want to say: You hope for ten fingers and toes… and then you realize, you should’ve aimed a little higher.
What you say instead: Look at his fingers and all his little toes!
What you want to say: Oh my, he looks like something you buy in a bait shop.
What you say instead: Tell me, how did you pick his name?
What you want to say: So… I’m guessing Snoop Dogg’s the father?
What you say instead: Such loving eyes, bless his little heart.
What you want to say:Wow. Looks like your husband’s sperm sucks.
What you say instead: So this was your first baby?
What you want to say: I see all the good orphans were already taken.
What you say instead: Does he sleep through the night?
What you want to say: What did your wife drink antifreeze while she was pregnant?
What you say instead: With the holidays coming up have you picked out a Halloween costume for the baby yet?
What you want to say: I guess no more date nights for you two, huh?
What you say instead: What a happy baby!
What you want to say: It’s funny. I didn’t think Howie Mandel had groupies.
What you say instead: Is your wife Canadian?
What you want to say: Why are you pushing a dog around in a stroller?
What you say instead: Wow. Sure looks like his father. He must be proud.
You may not believe me, not yet, but one day, you’ll be somewhere like an airport waiting area, and someone seated next to you will get friendly, a nervous flyer most likely, and they’ll want to show you pictures of their brand new niece, the one they’re flying out to meet, and when that day comes, you’ll be glad you read this.
Now, for the trolls who made it this far, you don’t need to waste your time typing it out. We all know it’s terrible to call a baby ugly and I’m headed to hell. But you know it and I know it, there are unattractive babies out there. We’ve all encountered them. I’m just admitting what we’ve all thought, at least once. I’m trying to find that silver lining. And don’t we all need that. Really?