Alice recently turned 7 months, and I decided to take some pictures of her. I took her into our bedroom, sat her in the white rocker and started snapping.
She even started getting a little sleepy.
And then, something started a-brewing. The first sign was that her cheeks suddenly appeared twice their normal size.
I love big cheeks, so I wasn’t complaining one bit.
And then, suddenly, Alice was no longer exactly looking like Alice. At all. In the blink of an eye, she had turned into . . .
Fat Angry Baby.
From whence she came, I don’t know.
She wasn’t even angry at the time. Or fat–though I LOVE fat babies.
If I hadn’t been the one to take these pictures and someone had shown them to me and said “look at this baby,” I would not have recognized my own daughter.
Let’s take a closer look.
I don’t know who this is . . . but I LOVE HER.
And I love her with a mustache too.
(incidentally, this isn’t the first time I’ve added hair art to a baby–it’s wildly entertaining)
Who are you, Fat Angry Baby? And can I please squeeze every bit of your squishy, angry baby body? AND CAN I PLEASE KISS YOUR CHINNY CHIN CHIN CHIN CHINNITY CHINNYCHINCHIN OVER AND OVER????
Ma’am, you’ll have to get in line and apply for a baby-squeezing permit. Demand is high and there may be an additional 90-day waiting period for chinnity-chin-chin kissers.
Okay, Fat Angry Baby. Anything for you.
And then . . .
I can only hope.
Please report directly to me with any sightings.