“Thank you for asking! He’s amazing. We’re having such a good time with him. Unfortunately, we’re not getting much sleep because he thinks that night is day and day is night, but I’m sure we’ll sort that out soon. He also thinks that global warming is a liberal media hoax and that Wolf Blitzer is Santa Claus, but hey, he’s only three weeks old!”
“He’s a little colicky, mostly in the afternoons. In the mornings, he’s gimmicky. At night, he’s just plain dicky.”
“Oh — this is the cutest. When he has gas, it looks like he’s smiling! When he’s tired, it looks like he’s clubhopping. When he has a poop, it looks like he’s anagramming.”
“He spits up sometimes. He projectile vomits occasionally. He missile launches pee about seven times a day and breathes fire whenever Alice eats cauliflower or smoked haddock. We don’t even bother cleaning up the mess anymore.”
“Funny you should ask. When he was two-weeks-old, we realized we hadn’t even left the house with him. So we loaded our car with diapers and wipes and hypoallergenic cream and changes of clothing and books and toys and a CD of ‘Baby Beluga’ and then we realized that the baby car seat had somehow found a deep crater lake and drowned itself. It was hilarious. So then we just ordered in pizza.”
“I know a lot of people say this about their babies, but he really does look like Winston Churchill when he wakes up from his nap. It’s a mystery why anyone likes newborns at all.”
“Last week we finally left the house and realized we didn’t have any diapers! It was an unusually acrimonious AA meeting.”
“Thank goodness he’s not one of those babies that cry. What do you call those? ‘Crybabies’ just seems insulting. Anyway, he absolutely never cries. Last night, we told him about how Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated, and his lower lip started to tremble but then he stuffed a Barney sock puppet in his mouth and just clenched it hard. Not even one tear. What a newborn!”
“His umbilical cord stump fell off when we were reenacting the Drake/Chris Brown fight. It was hideous. But at the same time it was cute. Babies are amazing.”
“We read to him every night because our pediatrician said we were in the appropriate socioeconomic group to do so. He especially loves Are You My Mother, The Threepenny Review and anything by Chelsea Handler.”
He has this really sweet birthmark on the arch of his foot, which suggests that he was Nikolai Viktorovich Podgorny, a Soviet Ukranian leader during the Cold War, in his past life.”
“His hiccups are just gorgeous.”
“Because of the jaundice, we hold him under a spotlight every day, checking his color. Usually when we do so he’ll break into his Ethel Merman impersonation and start humming “Everything’s Coming up Roses”. It’s fantastic. And also a little annoying. No one ever told us parenting would be like this!”
“He loves splashing around in the bath. But when we take him out and dry him in his cuddly towel, which has a hood with adorable bear ears, he curses us like a drunk and penniless sailor who’s being kicked out of a sleazy corner pub in Glasgow.”
“Last night he had diaper rash. ‘Do you think we should call the doctor?’ Alice said. ‘No, call Wolf,’ I said. ‘He’ll know what to do.’”