My Baby, the MMA Fighter

“This is her idea of a great morning,” Adam said, holding the squirming baby on his lap when I came up from my basement office to say hi. “Smiling at Mommy … while literally stepping on Dad’s dick. Which is what she’s doing right now. I think she’s trying to make sausage wine. It’s possible that she thinks she’s in a log-rolling contest. Anyway, ow.”

One thing they don’t tell you when you have a baby is that they beat you up all the time. Baboo gets super excited whenever I come into the room, and she expresses this by grabbing my face and pulling whatever she has in her hand. Sometimes, it’s my nose. Sometimes, it’s my cheek. Once, I swear she nearly got my eye out. Nearly. But there’s always tomorrow for dreams to come true.

She’s the cutest and most vicious person I know. Of course, none of this is malicious. Also, it would help if I kept her nails trimmed, but that’s harder than it sounds. You put your sweet, innocent baby to bed with normal baby nails, and she wakes up with sloth claws. I’m guessing that this is a sign of good health. I’d tell you how grateful I am about that in person, but it’s hard for me to speak as this morning she reached right out and ripped my lips off my face.

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The kicker is obviously a very tall baby. The kickee is that baby’s loving parent. Photo: Snapwire/Pexels.com

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