Moo was an ugly baby.
No, it’s true.
When Ross told Rachel that ugly baby judges her, I’m pretty sure he was lookin at Moo’s picture.
Moo was red, like the red of storybook devils. She had some mean lookin lines on her forehead, like she was permanently pissed off AT YOU. She had enormous black hair that would not lie down, like Don King hair. And I don’t mean that’s how she came out, I mean that’s how she stayed for months and months. It is apparently true that if you birth an ugly baby you will not love it any less, but it’s a lie to say you won’t know it’s ugly. I knew.
Mothers of ugly babies know their babies are ugly, they just don’t care.
Day Two with Moo: omagosh this baby is ugly and no one is going to love her right. i will overly love her. i will love her so much.
The other day while we waited for our ice cream we were cuttin up about it. Moo was giggling and snorting and kicking her leg with laughter, so I assure you, she’s over it.
“I know she looks like an angry sunburnt bear, but she’s actually a tiny human.”
“Why is it so angry?”
She says, “I hate it here! I hate the world! The world is stupid and cold!”
“Your baby needs Botox!”
“Whatever you do, do not take off its hat!”
“The hat is there for your protection!”
“I’m just grateful people think she’s a baby, who cares if they think she’s a boy?!?”
Fortunately, during colic, Moo screamed her crazy hair right out (while I pulled out my own) and around six months, she began to look specifically humanoid and approachable.
Don’t worry about Moo now. She’s got my mother’s Seminole skin. She’s got nice thick lie-down hair, the color of caramel.
Mothers of beautiful babies know their babies are beautiful, they just don’t care.
Do you have any ugly baby experiences you want to share?