Tuesday, April 16, 2013

At Least My Kid Ain't Ugly

I think I need to go steal a three-year old in order to fit in with the rest of the world.

For full effect, download "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" by The Giggleberries from iTunes, and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.

As time has passed and all of us who were raised by social media have somewhat progressed, our Internet lives have evolved from one narcissistic subject to another.  First it was the dating escapades; complaining about awkward doorbell scenes with some guy who wouldn't floss, or the fact that you and your three-week old boyfriend just had the DTR.  Then it changed to the barrage of corny engagement pictures where all couples misconstrued the idea that standing in a rusty barn dressed to the tens, staring off into the distant sunset was some "new" style that no one else had ever thought of.  

Correction, all of you thought of doing that, and simply fed off each others Photoshopped stupidity.  

Then there were the "We're Pregnant" pics that littered Facebook and Instagram left and right, with everyone trying to one-up each other by posing in a creative way that hinted at the fact they would soon be punching their spouses teeth out, and screaming bloody murder at the doctor to give them an epidural.  Every woman out there thought that holding a ballon with a due date on it was a cute way to say you would soon be having a little monster crawl out from your insides.  

Those fads have now faded, and now we as a society are adopting (pun intended) the stockpile of trendy pictures you're taking, and posting might I add, of all your little boogers ages 1-5.  

Now I don't mind the whole "you-should-take-pride-in-my-child-because-he's-in-the-98th-percentile-of-forehead-size-for-his-age" mentality that so many of you have become addicted to.  I understand that the pictures you're posting are of little "yous".  And therefore you are beaming with joy every time they take a naked poo on the back porch, or fall asleep next to your black lab, and you're able to capture that heartwarming moment and broadcast it to the rest of us.  I'm fine with that.  In fact, keep posting those pictures every day.  There's only one stipulation that I ask you to uphold:

Just make sure your kid isn't ugly.   

That's the problem with some of these pictures that our generation is streaming into the social media world.  They've got kids that really aren't that appealing to look at. In fact, they've just been downright beaten behind a shed with the nasty stick.  Call me insensitive, sure.  But you have to admit that some of these creatures that are being used as unpaid models for their parents Facebook pages really aren't that attractive at all.  Let's just say I would rather look at a live picture of actual boogers, than a picture of who you are calling "your" little booger.  

On the flip side, some of you actually do have some adorable looking offspring.  Take for instance the picture I posted of my nephew at the top of this blog.  Seriously, go back and look at that chocolate-covered three-year old's face and tell me you don't want to go adopt a kitten from the local animal shelter.  He's got a smile that would melt down North Korea, and he rightfully deserves to be showcased on this blog, on his parent's page, and on the mainstream Internet until he reaches puberty and develops a self-esteem issue for being used as a social media pawn of narcissism.   

If he wasn't cute, then I wouldn't post.  And I think that's the standard my generation needs to uphold. 

It really doesn't matter how long I rant about this, all of you are still going to post your little boogers until my Newsfeed is buried to the sky in ugly mucus.  And I'm fine with that.  So go right ahead, take those pictures, upload them to your accounts, put a sepia tone over the top of it, and write some play on words as the caption just so the rest of the world can give you a digital thumbs up.  

In the meantime, I'm off to go adopt the first kid I can find.  Heck, if you can't beat 'em, might as well join 'em.   

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