a little girl at the park

said "oh my gosh your baby is sooooo cute!"

The new baby, who we will call Buster from here on, is perfect in my eyes. He's perfect in Ryan's eyes and our parents' eyes. But outside of that golden circle, let's be real... he looks like something that just crawled out from under a rock in a lagoon.

Because he DID just crawl out from under a rock in a lagoon. Through a tunnel that squished and mashed his skull, into a world that he doesn't yet have the skeletal integrity to navigate.

He's floppy, wrinkly, and his fingers splay out at odd angles. He's blotchy and makes cranky frog faces with all of his 14 chins. He's gorgeous. Everything he is delights me.

But. Come on, little girl. You don't know me. You don't have to lie. Empirically, this kid is not cute. Yet.

She asked me how old he was.

I had to think. I haven't slept that much.

"He's... one day old."

Holy shit.

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