Flying Babies

           I generally feel incredibly overwhelmed when surrounded by human beings that are small. Things in this category include not just babies but also midgets, dwarfs, and people from Korea. Babies specifically are of my largest concern for the fact that they do not communicate using words. I remember the first day when I met my niece who was only a few days old. It was explained to me that the little martian came to this Earth via my Sister's vagina. I personally do not see how this is possible but I give my family the benefit of the doubt while secretly believing that she arrived by either FedEx or a stork. I went to meet my Sister in her house and was greeted by a tiny, squishy ball of Caucasian joy which suspiciously resembled a bald Powerpuff girl. I embraced the vanilla cupcake in my hands and held the little baby in my lap. I remember staring into the little alien's eyes (which were barely open) and feeling completely bewildered that it came from my Sister who at the time was violently biting her nails because of her completely validated nervous energy caused by her overly reckless and jittery Brother attempting to a balance her newborn on his thighs for the first time. It dawned on me in that moment that this marshmallow would be a part of my life for as long as I would live on this Earth and of course an even larger part of my Sister's life. This, however, did not help ease my feelings of being overwhelmed by children; it only made matters worse that I would be, albeit minimally, responsible for another human being indefinitely. Since the greeting of my Sister's space alien, my perception of the little nuggets of the Earth has continued on a downward spiral; not because of my niece, it's really just out of hysterical fear which has been a constant motiviating and dominating force in my life. I generally avoid anything that is too short to ride the Tilt-A-Whirl (this includes Mexicans and my Mother). However, it has been unfortunate that in certain situations that evil babies are completely unavoidable. My plane trip coming from New York City back to Dallas is a perfect example.

             I had been in my favorite place in the world, NYC, for a few days on business this past week. I had stayed out the entire evening prior to my flight for two reasons. First of all, it was Friday which is the perfect night of the week to slide several single dollar bills down the perpetual G-strings of America's finest strippers. Second of all, these particular adult establishments I speak of are open until 4 in the morning in New York. To give you a time frame, I, along with my fellow employees, were to meet at 3:45am in the hotel lobby. Therefore, the most logical way to spend my time efficiently in my favorite city would of course be to stretch my quality time with thong-wearing African Americans until 3:30am and cab it back to the hotel just in time to board the shuttle to the airport where I would no doubt receive a quality nap on the airplane. My premonition did not come to fruition. I boarded the plane completely drunk and high off of the sight of half naked Black people. I was more than ready to pass out on the plane. Then, there it was out of nowhere, little baby Hitler just staring me in the face. I gasped in horror and urinated slightly. Thank God I remembered to put on underwear prior to the flight. The baby was tiny with a gigantic head; it reminded me of the murderer from Scream. The little nugget didn't make a single sound, it instead continually sent laser beams straight towards my eyes without blinking for what felt like an eternity. It was clear that the baby was planning my murder. I darted for my seat, passing it at first, then finding it again and having a seat. I bucked up, twiddled my fingers with utter anxiety as the plane took off. Just as the "buckle your seat belt" sign turned off and I began to recline my chair back in preparation for my slumber, between the two seats in front of me emerged the offspring of Vladimir Putin. I screamed and peed, in that order. The nugget of death did just what his counterpart had done a few minutes prior. He just stared at me, and he wouldn't stop. "Go away!" I whispered, trying not to startle the baby provoking him to stab me with the knife in his Mother's wallet. "Pleeeaase go away!" I pleaded. He wouldn't stop. I was sweating profusely. The White babies had clearly plotted to attack me. As frightened as I was, I felt afraid to look away for fear that it would give the little baby a chance to strike. Then suddenly, as if unconciously, he burst into laughter! "Are you mocking me?" I questionned. This made him laugh harder. This little fucker wanted nothing more than to taunt me. I couldn't believe it! He was making a complete fool of me. Embarassed and annoyed, I excused myself and got up to go to the bathroom so I could clean myself after all of that peeing. On my way down the aisle, I notice something very startling and disturbing. I saw a third baby on the plane in another aisle, then a fourth, then a fifth. I was counting off the numerous babies on the flight. I was absolutely appalled. Where were they all coming from? Was American Airlines engaging in some sort of midget promotion wherein a discount is provided to people who perpetually shit themselves? In that case, I needed to call for a mail-in rebate.

              I took a seat in the restroom (which by the way is the most comfortable seat on the entire airplane). I began to think about what I had just witnessed. I also began to question myself as to why I was so afraid of something so helpless. After a few minutes had passed, it dawned on me. I realized that babies are absolutely ridiculous. This is why they are so popular and amusing. I think part of the adoration (and for me the anger and frustration) for babies is the fact that they are unapologetically oblivious and without filter. Many of us adults would love to behave as instantaneously and boldly as babies do on a regular basis if even for just one moment. What I wouldn't give to have one day where in sporadic unannounced moments I could scream, cry, laugh at someone else's misfortune and shit myself all within the span of five minutes (I must admit that the last two on the list I have done as an adult). So perhaps all of this fear is actually repressed anger and a manifestation of my jealousy towards these privileged midgets. Not only do these babies get the green light to express themselves at any extreme at any moment but they also get the luxury of being transported around by another human being who most likely will flash her breasts at you; this sounds like Flava Flav's dream. Analytically, I understand the fascination with babies but what I find slightly more confusing is the adoration. However, once babies are separated and categorized by race, I am able to further understand why people find them adorable. White babies are cute because they are fluffy and pink. Black babies are cute because they are like little balls of chocolate love. Mexican babies are cute because it's the only time in their lives when they are not stealing property from others. However, I must admit that there is one type of baby that I find hideously disturbing. It shouldn't be difficult to guess that the species I am referring to is of the squinty-eyed variety.

             Asian babies are scary for a variety of reasons. First of all, all of them look exactly like Kim Jong-il. Any time an entire race of baby resembles an evil North Korean dictator, it is only natural for one to want to run the other direction. Second of all, these little wontons can barely open their eyes which is of course common for newborns but comes across in a very creepy manner with the Asians for the fact that as onlookers we know that is how their faces will look for the rest of their adult lives. Ultimately it is very difficult to trust something when you can't tell what it's looking at. On a side note, I am particular concerned for the Japs and Chinks whom have vision problems with the majority of my sympathy resting on the fact that should an Asian attempt to squint, his or her eyes will more than likely implode on themselves and ultimately cause the near and farsighted Jackie Chans and Lisa Lings of the world to become permanently blind. Also, it is extemely important to recognize that it is very tumultuous to figure out when you are looking at an Asian baby or just a regular adult Asian because these little driving impaired communists are essentially full grown by five months of age. How is it possible to trust these shifty little dark-haired monsters with their stealthy vertical disadvantage and their timeless skin quality?

             All of these perplexities and wonderment in reference to babies of all races were racing through my head rampantly as the plane continued its venture until ultimately made its descent. It was particularly remarkable that none of these babies made a single peep through the whole flight. It was even more remarkable the fact that one of these little nuggets of the Caucasian variety who couldn't have been an older than three months was donning the exact same outfit as his Mother. They both wore black and white stripes from torso to pelvis. This of course made me wonder if the seemingly White baby was actually Hispanic. I considered asking the baby what he "considered himself" then recanted in concern that he might stab me with his gang knife. Ultimately, I am still incredibly weary of babies and decidedly skeptical of their "good and pure" intentions. Hitler, Osama bin Laden, and Kim Jong-il were all once babies who no doubt were human geysers of bodily fluids as all young people are. What scares me is that it is impossible to know when looking at any small tyrant whether or not they will grow up to create genecide or cure cancer (or perhaps kill two birds with one stone and accomplish both). I will never rule out the idea of having children but I will certainly pause for thought to truly consider all of the ramifications that having a baby will have; especially on my thin figure. An announcement will not be needed once and if ever I decide to father an evil nugget as it will not be necessary. You will know once this has happened because this blog will be renamed: Brown and With Child (all the while praying that the little bi-racial nugget will not grow up to pee on a teenager on videotape).