So naturally, the pure delightful perks of watching such an event would be:
- Parents hitting their babies for not being cute enough.
- Babies with an attitude
- Bitter Backstage Baby Backstabbing
I've arrived early. Through direct eye-interaction, I've already been singled out as a child abducting, pervert. I'm the only one without a baby. Just a grown man alone, taking in a beautiful baby contest on a scorching hot Saturday morning. You really standout without a baby. I should've brought one. An old woman leans toward me.
"Is your child entered in the contest?"
"No! I just like babies!"
There's regular baby, babies. Then there's the professional babies. Ones who arrive early, with curlers in their hair. Most of the babies have names I've never heard outside of this event (Marissa, LaHonda, Paris Rose Heaven-Angel).
Heaven-Angel wears a 50's poodle skirt. She's a professional baby. I imagine how she was named.
"Our baby's a gift from heaven. She's a gift from Heaven. She's an angel, a little angel. Wait a minute.......Heaven-Angel Pollock!"
My goal is to pick the ugliest baby. U-G-L-Y you ain't got no alibi. You're one motherfucking UGLY baby! My prediction is the baby with the obtuse head, soiled baseball uniform, and spit running down his face. There are babies in various hand-me-down sailor suits, crusty bows in their hair. There's a baby with a tube sticking out his neck. Most baby boys are dressed like middle-aged men, the baby girls, like hookers.
And the ringer has arrived. It's a blond kid named Colin. He's five years old, trying to sneak into the 3-year-old category and take it all. He's dressed like a 40-year-old insurance salesman. Slacks, pressed. Jacket and tie, neat. Colin! There's a large entourage with him.
Hello, my name is Colin. I like it when my mommy puts me in beautiful baby contests. I'm a little fucking prick.
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