They’re tiny but they’re mighty. Mighty dangerous. And for miniature people, they pack a punch.
I mean they’ll injure you in their daily business of being out-of-control, self-involved, completely nonplussed humans who’ll headbutt you in the eye socket and laugh about it.
A cosy cuddle while reading a book will almost always end with a head-to-chin collision, often causing teeth-through-tongue syndrome.
Popping on a child’s T-shirt will almost always result in that child’s fingers inside your eyeballs or their forehead connecting with your nose.
Picking up a screaming child is a dangerous activity with the high probability of an eye-socket fracture when the child performs the impressive suddenly-upside-down move and you get a heel straight in the face.
Sitting down to play trains will feel innocent enough, until a Thomas takes flight and your mouth stops its trajectory, leaving you with a fat lip you need to explain away at day care drop-off.
A child who wants to climb up on the couch to cuddle you is a child who is 100 per cent going to stick a knee or elbow straight into your boob or thigh, which is exponentially more painful than you’d think.
You’ll be standing in the kitchen, innocently making lunch, and a child will walk over and stand with their rubber-soled torture boots on the very tops of your bare feet so it feels like the flesh will tear right off the bone.
Men don’t have much to fear in this world but if they’re just going to stand around like masters of their domain, they should expect sudden, unprovoked headbutts to the ball sack. (Hate to say it, but it wouldn’t have happened if he’d worn safer clothes. Totally asking for it.)
My child once screamed until I agreed to reach for the water bottle which had fallen on to the floor of the car. At the lights, I reached over to get that bloody water bottle and punched myself in the chest with the gear stick. Broke my ribs. She didn’t even touch me but it was still all her fault and I won’t hear otherwise.
Babies should come with a health warning.
This child:
• will ruin your body, your hair and your face and may leave you with a pelvic floor that has the willpower of Augustus Gloop
• will keep you awake for months on end and when they finally sleep—you won’t be able to anymore
• will cause fear-based hallucinations where you vividly imagine their demise any time they’re within 500 metres of a dangerous object
• will ruin your back with the constant carrying and picking-up of things off the floor
• will hike your blood pressure to dangerous levels with the simple refusal of food
• will reduce you to a diet of rejected toast crusts and banana ends
• will render you incapable of watching sad stories on the news without catastrophic eye leakage
• will steal all of your time and all of your money.
And despite all of this, you will love that child more than anything you’ve ever loved and just as you start to see straight again, you’ll turn around and say you want another.
Lucky they’re so damn cute.