Babies are Dicks

This is one thing people don’t tell you when you’re about to become a dad: babies are dicks.

Our baby looks at me the same way he looks at one of his turds. Though my wife disagrees, his first word seems to have been “no.” She says it was “da,” but that was just baby noise. No is something he says consistently. He says it when I feed him, when I change him, and when I carry him to bed. And when I do any of these things against his will, he shrieks like a little bob cat. And then I’m the bad guy.

He’s turned my wife against me. Everything is my fault, not his. I can tell when he’s crying for attention, which is all the time. He’ll cry, wait for us to react, and then cry again. My wife always falls for it! It’s so obvious, too! He looks like a little bastard, sitting there, smacking his lips. And then whammo! His face is red and he’s a complete basket case. Then there’s the times that he just hits me or takes my stuff and throws it around. All I want to do is beat the shit out of him. Just a little! My wife won’t even let me give him a good punch in the solar plexus (assuming that babies have one of those. I’m not even sure).

Babies are hideous little creatures that hate all life. We can’t even go out anymore without the baby being a total dick. He cries and throws shit around–literally throws shit! This one time in El Torito, he reached into his diaper and flung poo at our waiter like a psychotic little spider monkey. We can never go back to El Torito. I frickin’ love El Torito, too! Damn that baby!

I can’t wait until he turns 18 and I can legally kick him out. Until then, I have deal with having a complete douchebag for a son.



Filed under Flash Fiction, Session XVII

3 responses to “Babies are Dicks

  1. awesome.
    welcome back.

  2. libertad

    Focused? Nah, I’m masochistic.

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