vacabies

Sometimes I feel like I'm being punished. Like when I go to a party and yet another new mom is showing me pictures of her impossibly average-looking kid and I have to coo about how adorable they are. Let's face it - most babies look the same; only a few are stand-out gerber-cute. I have decided, to combat this, I'm going to carry around pictures of my vacabies (that's trademarked). For every baby-in-bath picture I have to "aww" over, I'm pulling out the pictures of my cute little growler icebergs. Toddler-in-cowboy-hat? Rockies-with-cowboy boots. Baby's-first-whatever? My-first-caught-lobster. I'm done with congratulating people on successfully performing basic animal functions.

And, you know, I like babies. I think they're pretty amusing. I had one toddle up to me in the elevator just this morning and kiss my purse. We shared a moment of mutual accessory appreciation. It's not the babies, it's the parents. I just wish that parents would get a grip on themselves. Very few mommies (and I'm happy to report that I know one or two) are cognisant of the fact that we're friends with each other and that I'm not necessarily friends with their babies. Especially when they're still potentially spitting up on my cashmere or yanking on my delicate jewellery.

So, the next time someone asks me to catch them up on my life and they ask the inevitable "Married? Kids?" I'm going to answer truthfully and say "No, happily. Would you like to see pictures of my vacabies?"