Some of you may remember my nephew Chris' essay "
Why I would make a crappy terrorist.," which recounted his adventures in duplicating movie gunshot special effects.
Well, Chris recently became a father for the first time, and has shared a few thoughts on his son Dexter, known as "the Dex man" (named after Cary Grant's character in "The Philadelphia Story"). I offer this only as a humorous diversion. If you're busy, skipping it might be a good idea.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Baby Goggles
Any young guy has heard of the term “Beer Goggles.” For those of you who are not familiar, it refers to the odd phenomenon whereby our vision is affected by alcohol. You know… remember that girl you met at the beginning of the evening…the one with the one eyebrow who grows a better mustache than you? Yea, well, now you’re dancing with her to Bon Jovi and she is remarkably better looking after a few beers. And after a night of drinking, the mustache is gone and you’re starting to wonder why she’s not on the cover of Maxim.
I have now noticed that the same dynamic is involved in parenthood. I will coin this affliction “Baby Goggles.” When a child is born, anyone with a genetic connection or who bares a responsibility in raising that child develops the belief that the child is Gods gift to adolescent beauty. This little blob comes out all pink and smooshed with a lobe shaped head and the relatives all go “He’s so beautiful.” If I looked like that right now, people would cringe with terror and children would run screaming in horror. Unless, of course, they just drank a six pack and we were dancing to Bon Jovi.
Now he comes home and it’s poop and drool and spit up and his grandmothers are all “He’s absolutely the most perfect baby in the world.” I don’t have to tell you what people would say if I was drooling and vomiting and filling my pants with crap. There hasn’t been enough beer brewed in the world to make that look good. And let's face it, Bon Jovi's not gonna' help. I have to admit that our little guy's head has mellowed to a more natural color now and it isn’t as pointy as it used to be. But, when he came home he was a dead ringer for “Don Rickles”. Then he lost some of his birth hair and went into a sort of “Phil Collins” phase. Now that he is putting on weight, he has definitely settled firmly into an “Uncle Fester” kind of thing. (Be honest…you’re humming the Adams Family theme in your head aren’t you?)
The main difference between Beer Goggles and Baby Goggles is that Beer Googles wear off. The next morning your buddies show you a picture of you dancing and you ask “Who’s that dude dancing next to me?” And, as the grins of evil pleasure come across their faces, it all comes rushing back like a horrible dream. As far as I can tell, Baby Goggles don’t ever go away. I imagine as they were leading Jeffery Dahmer away to a life of prison, his mom was saying “Isn’t he cute in that orange jumper? Hi jeffy boy sweet heart. Mommy loves you!”
The people I really feel sorry for are the child modeling agencies. How the hell do they tell parents that no one is ever going to want to look at their little troll? “Wow…Yea…We’re definitely interested in your child. If we get any calls for babies with crooked teeth, a droopy right eye and a head that slopes to the left, we’re callin’ you first!" I could just see us rollin' The Dex Man in and they look at each other and say "Ya know...I think they're making another Mad Max movie real soon.”
Don't get me wrong, I don’t mind when people think their little angel is perfect as long as they remember...They just might be the only ones who do.
