Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

Don’t Get Cute

with 2 comments

Being such an unbiased observer, I should face no difficulty in asserting that my children are the cutest. After consulting with such experts as all four of their grandparents, the results defy contradiction (actually, the grandparents tried to get all diplomatic and claim that they find all of their grandchildren the cutest, not just ours, but come on).

Since uploading photos is far too much work for a busy guy such as yours truly, some non-visual evidence may be necessary to convince the lot of you – some of you who probably have children of your own, and therefore suffer from severe prejudice that renders you unable to face the objective truth: with all due respect to your children, or grandchildren, or godchildren, or whichever yung’uns you once found most attractive, they must all cede the honors to Thag’s quartet of cuteness. To wit:

– Does your eighteen-month-old think that “Hello,” means “Look! I’m wearing someone else’s shoes on my hands!”?
– Does your three-year-old wait to run to the toilet until she gets acknowledgement of her “Peepee!” announcement?
– Does your six-year-old  insist on a special pair of underwear to wear with his pajamas? Every single night until they get grungy or urine-soaked, whichever comes first?
– Does your nine-year-old think that on the top bunk bed with the lights on is a proper context for dancing around with nothing on?
– Do you have six kinds of jelly donuts? (Oops. Dunno how that one got in there. But I do know it is hard to type with one hand concealing my moustache).

I realize you may have vignettes that you think compare to the above, but you must come to terms with fact: you have no idea what you’re talking about. If you answer with a cute turn of phrase, I will merely recall our toddler’s tendency to throw everything he can find either into the street or the kitchen garbage can, possibly including his sister’s new dress shoes, which we cannot find. This fate resembles what we strongly suspect became of a missing boot, as well, though that one probably disappeared at the hand of a previous toddler. That, in turn, joins a number of objects whose vanishing likely occurred when our oldest still wore the size 4 diapers. Not that we’re naming names.

In any case, the grandparents, whose authority on the matter we invoked earlier, know from cuteness: they have a total of twenty-two, not counting various grandnieces and nephews and more distant relations upon whom to base their comparisons, all of whom could content in the World Series of Cuteness, a concept that makes me retch with such violence as to stun the pigeons nesting on our roof. Or so I wish. What kind of abusive, short-sighted parent would subject a kid to that kind of shallowness? Don’t answer that question – we know exactly what kind: the kind who would fake their kid’s disappearance just to get media attention; the kind who would enroll little Ashley in a little kids’ beauty pageant; the kind who would name their kid Ashley in the first place; the kind who thinks that imbuing heir children with the notion that the superficial is paramount does no harm. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a generation of warped, maladjusted creeps (aka every single ninth grade class for fifteen years running, according to teachers I had).

You might think the previous paragraph would dissuade me from pressing the claim. On the contrary; I think that once the world sees for itself that in fact my children can out-cute anyone’s, they will cease to pursue their futile pursuit of the limelight, and focus on more constructive endeavors, such as warming up the planet. Unless they’re Tea Party devotees, in which case they’ll focus on denying that they’re warming up the planet.

So you see, this is not only a campaign for the unvarnished truth, but a selfless mission to reeducate humanity. Now that I’ve convinced you, feel free to express your support through PayPal. That “Send Payment” button is so irresistibly cute, isn’t it?

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Written by Thag

October 30, 2010 at 8:38 pm

2 Responses

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  1. Thank you for fact update, but that’s what every parent is supposed to say.
    My little boy is the cutest in the world. He claps his hands whenever he hears music, (he is only 1 year and 4 months), and dances around in a circle.

    scholarlymom24

    October 31, 2010 at 1:09 pm

    • It’s tough to have your illusions shattered, isn’t it? Not to worry; in time, the truth won’t hurt so much. That’s the way it was with me and thinking it wasn’t a complete $%$@ waste of time to root for the Mets.

      Thag

      October 31, 2010 at 2:08 pm


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