i can't prove there was a flying saucer involved
My nephew and sister were released yesterday.
Here's the thing about me and newborns, and I extend this opinion to my own--newborns are hideous.
Many moons ago, though the memory is pretty much never going to fade no matter how hard I try, I was presented with the fruits of my labor, which I will never discuss because the humiliation level was so catastrophic I cannot deal with it. The doctor held up my son, luckly nowhere near the mirror I was supposed to use so I could watch the miracle of birth (these people were nuts), and I stared at him and thought, dear God.
Verbatim: "Is his head going to stay like that?"
(It didn't. Eventually it took on a normal shape, but I was wary for a while. I'd seen this movie. It did not end well. I think the aliens won.)
Because at that point, I didn't think I could deal. It was the night after X-Files (either Never Again or the one directly before--very important TV) and I was still worried about Scully. I was also fairly stoned between whatever they gave me in the IV as I was apparently Not a Very Calm Patient and traumatized by the verbal narration of what was going on during labor (again, these people were nuts) and the endorphin rush of realizing I got to have all the coffee I wanted, along with blessed, blessed hydrocodone in quantities that still give me pleasant memories.
So I was basically having some vague alien-related flashbacks and thinking of Coneheads and you get I was stoned, right? Right. Very terrifying. But honest.
Newborns? Not pretty.
Fastforward to 2008.
I mean, I say this in a loving and finding it charming way, but there's just no way around the fact they simply do not look human. My Nephew (currently nicknamed Littlest Alien Overlord) is marvelous in every way, but I keep looking into his eyes and thinking, this is what X-Files warned me about. Also, he studies things. I mean, a lot. I am sure there is some really reasonable reason why he stares at everything (everything), struggles to walk (I am not freaking joking, the little legs got leverage on my sister's stomach and lifted his rear up right there and looks at us all with vague disappointment, like he was sure humans were far more interesting than we turned out to be. I hate to tell him, we are not. Conquest, LAO, will not be a challenge.
Luckily, as his aunt, I will be spared during the invasion. Pretty sure. Almost sure.
Here's the thing about me and newborns, and I extend this opinion to my own--newborns are hideous.
Many moons ago, though the memory is pretty much never going to fade no matter how hard I try, I was presented with the fruits of my labor, which I will never discuss because the humiliation level was so catastrophic I cannot deal with it. The doctor held up my son, luckly nowhere near the mirror I was supposed to use so I could watch the miracle of birth (these people were nuts), and I stared at him and thought, dear God.
Verbatim: "Is his head going to stay like that?"
(It didn't. Eventually it took on a normal shape, but I was wary for a while. I'd seen this movie. It did not end well. I think the aliens won.)
Because at that point, I didn't think I could deal. It was the night after X-Files (either Never Again or the one directly before--very important TV) and I was still worried about Scully. I was also fairly stoned between whatever they gave me in the IV as I was apparently Not a Very Calm Patient and traumatized by the verbal narration of what was going on during labor (again, these people were nuts) and the endorphin rush of realizing I got to have all the coffee I wanted, along with blessed, blessed hydrocodone in quantities that still give me pleasant memories.
So I was basically having some vague alien-related flashbacks and thinking of Coneheads and you get I was stoned, right? Right. Very terrifying. But honest.
Newborns? Not pretty.
Fastforward to 2008.
I mean, I say this in a loving and finding it charming way, but there's just no way around the fact they simply do not look human. My Nephew (currently nicknamed Littlest Alien Overlord) is marvelous in every way, but I keep looking into his eyes and thinking, this is what X-Files warned me about. Also, he studies things. I mean, a lot. I am sure there is some really reasonable reason why he stares at everything (everything), struggles to walk (I am not freaking joking, the little legs got leverage on my sister's stomach and lifted his rear up right there and looks at us all with vague disappointment, like he was sure humans were far more interesting than we turned out to be. I hate to tell him, we are not. Conquest, LAO, will not be a challenge.
Luckily, as his aunt, I will be spared during the invasion. Pretty sure. Almost sure.