Babies Are U_ly.

When I eat prawns, and I’m ravaging what’s known as the head, voices keep coming into my head repeating the mantra that it is the best part of the prawn.  I’d repeat it out loud myself when there is need to verbalise pleasantries while I’m sucking the juices from the shell.  Even though I totally disagree.  Personally, I find the fleshy bits around the curvature the best part of the prawn.  The head, though rather tasty, is more mucky than juicy.  And definitely not the best part of the prawn.  Not to me at least.

Same goes with the arse of chicken.  The bone marrow of the bovine.  Couture for the canine.  Follies and foibles of the feline.  None of those garner any good with me.  Just courteous goodwill so as not to piss off those who believe they are indisputable favourites amongst the masses.  Cos if truth be told, I absolutely hate those.  All those, thank you.  But there is one similar to those popularist likes that bears an axiom that is not to be repeated out loud.  Ever.  There is one phrase I know should never be used at any time in or out of the public realm.  Yes, it’s about babies.  Human babies in particular.

Firstly though, a disclaimer.  I accept that there is an aesthetic charm about babies.  It stems from the seduction of the miniature.  We seem to have a propensity to delight in miniaturization.  And babies are after all, scaled down versions of us.  And I’m fine with that.  After all, I’ve had three miniaturized versions of me in different guises.

Other than that, boy, are they urrrgly.  Hairless.  Puffy.  Blank stares.  Inane smiles.  They look like Winston Churchill.  Yoda.  The Michelin man.  The Marshmallow Man.  Bulldogs.  Aliens.  Which is fine by me.  I mean, like other citizens of the planet, there are no peoples that are absolute beauties.  Nor absolute uglies.  But my problem with babies actually stem from adults who insist on parading them out for the world to witness.  Out in malls.  On streets.  In parks.  On desks.  In frames.  Online.  In avatars.  Cocky and confident that they will get nothing but coos and caws of how cute are the fruits of the labour of their groins.  I do beg your pardon but more often than not, they’re not.  Not cute that is.  Cos whatever we choose to insist, or are deluded or obliged to believe – babies are ugly.