When I interact with a baby, my initial reaction isn't -- like so many girls my age -- to want to have a baby. My first reaction to hanging out with a baby is that I want to be a baby.
I told some friends this recently. According to them, it's weird.
But I stand by my statement. Babies are passed around at parties from person to person, each of whom has just one mission: make the baby laugh. Who wouldn't want that life?
Similarly, it's so easy for a baby to make someone smile. All the baby has to do is point and say "doggie!" to get a few giggles. There's no timing involved, no perfectly placed picture on a blog, no potty humor or other extremes utilized merely for a laugh.
At a gathering, if someone isn't trying to make the baby laugh, they're trying to hug him, cuddle him, or have him blow a kiss. So much love. The adult alternatives are having to explain 16 times what you do for work and wondering how far away you have to be from someone before you can start gossiping about them.
I think Y is on my side. A few years ago we went to Disneyland and as we were leaving, we saw a little boy, Mickey Mouse ears atop his head, falling asleep on his dad's shoulders. He was clutching the remains of one of those giant, swirled lollipops. Y stopped and pointed. "I want to be that kid."
I agreed. I mean, I left Disneyland in a much worse state than that little boy - tired and cranky, with nothing but a few blisters and this awful picture:
What do you think: am I crazy? Or - come on, admit it -- do I maybe have a point?