Baby Sitting

I know this makes me, in the words of Jack Donahue,  “negative, pessimistic, and in danger of becoming permanently sour,” but there’s something about Liz Lemon – and frankly, most people – that I honestly just don’t get. 

That’s right: babies. What the heck is up with babies?  They are terrifying creatures. Have you ever had someone pass a baby to you, as if there is some inherent female instinct that knows exactly how to hold a squirmy, drooling, incompetent tiny human? Because I think I accidentally slept through that lecture. Seriously, people? Would you turn on a chainsaw and then deftly hand it off to an innocent bystander? Okay, babies do not equal chainsaws, but still. NOT COOL.

Stop that.

I would post a picture of me uncomfortably holding a baby, but only one of those exists in all of human kind  (it also includes me uncomfortably dealing with my teens – hell-O braces) and has thankfully not been introduced to digital form yet. 

Here is a picture of me holding a cat. Because cats deal with their shit all by themselves.

Another thing that has always baffled me is the persistence of the myth that babies smell like lilies or some crap. Some crap is right. Babies smell terrible, even if baby power smells awesome. Sure, they smell great after a bath… but so do I, and I have hair and can carry on a conversation about 30 Rock with you. Not sure how those last two things were relevant, but just go with it.

You might be thinking, “But Megan, you too were once a child!” First of all, stop thinking as though you’re having a conversation with me, that’s totally weird. Secondly, even as a baby I liked adults better, proving my theory that the state of baby-dom is one of absolute wrongness.

I was recently having a conversation with a few girlfriends of mine about this very topic. We all went around the circle talking about our siblings and whether we wanted kids. The conversation went a little like this:

“I think I want two kids…”

“I definitely want four kids, I always wanted to have more siblings….”

“rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb….” (this conversation became less and less pertinent to my interests)

“Zero kids is too many kids” (that was me, can you tell?)

Until we got to this absolute gem, from my illustrious friend, Liz: “Shit guys, I just want a car…”

And then I realized. I needed to prioritize my life. Because cars are much more important than babies (why have a baby, if only to buy an annoying sticker for your minivan that says “Baby On Board”?). I need to stop hating on babies so much and start loving cars a lot more. Because babies don’t have built-in seat warmers.

Unless you sat on them.

Don’t do that. 

Thank god I will never have to worry about this.