Hey baby

An artists interpretation of me holding a baby

I have never held a baby before. Ever. Not once. I have no interest in it. It scares me. I feel nervous about handling my iphone 4 let alone the product of someones own biology. If someone dropped my phone, it can be replaced. If I were to drop someones baby I don’t think my offer of sleeping with the wife to replace it would really work out.

The heads freak me out. Not being able to lift their own head is just odd. I feel if I hold it wrong the head will pop clean off and roll awkwardly to the feet of the parents, shaking their heads in disbelief, knowing they shouldn’t have let “Uncle Mitch” near their child.

On the weekend I visited my mate who has just had a baby himself (well, his Mrs did the hard work but he helped). After politely declining a few time to hold the baby  I was saved by the arrival of my mates parents, the babies grandparents. I took this window of opportunity to leave while the grandparents were distracted playing with the baby. Then I heard the Grandad say this:

Grandad: *baby goo-goo talk*… Huh. His hairs still a little red, isn’t it… I hope this peach fuzz grows out, we don’t want a ranga in the family.

Me: I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Grandad: *Looks up at me* Whoops, didn’t realise we had one here…

Me: Yup.

Grandad: Sorry?

Me: Never mind, happens all the time.

Maybe, own one day, I will have a child of my own and maybe I will hold it, but it’s more likely I’ll just hug them when they’re 6 years old or a nice pat on the head or something… If they aren’t one of those unfortunate rangas that is.

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