Now that our first grand baby was born in May, baby stuff is coming back to me.
Babies are like fat little tubes of poop toothpaste. You’re fussing all over them, aw, she’s so cute, maybe she’ll be an Olympic athlete someday, or maybe even president. Then the little baby’s face kind of starts scrunching up, like she’s straining a little and everybody says, oh, look, how cute, baby’s making a funny little face, ain’t that the cutest thing…and then all of a sudden you get hit with the stank. Baby’s thinking, there you go, motherfucker, there’s your big pile of cuteness right there. Welcome to the jungle.
Babies are like fat little tubes of poop toothpaste. You’re fussing all over them, aw, she’s so cute, maybe she’ll be an Olympic athlete someday, or maybe even president. Then the little baby’s face kind of starts scrunching up, like she’s straining a little and everybody says, oh, look, how cute, baby’s making a funny little face, ain’t that the cutest thing…and then all of a sudden you get hit with the stank. Baby’s thinking, there you go, motherfucker, there’s your big pile of cuteness right there. Welcome to the jungle.
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