Babies are like husbands. Husbands are like babies. I can feel you pulling away, but give it a chance. I’ll win you over.
First you should know, I adore my husband and I love my baby. They are the best parts of my life! And second, my husband approved this message. He loves a good laugh. Now buckle up.
They fart and they don’t care.
Does this need explanation? All is well when suddenly… what is THAT?! You grab the baby and pull his pants out to look down his diaper. It’s so undignified. Sorry, its smells like a poop diaper. But there is nothing there. It was just a man fart. How did the baby even muster that? Like father, like son. At least this time it wasn’t under your bed covers.
They have cute butts.
A baby’s butt is like angel songs. It’s just pure cuteness. The sight of the back of a baby zombie-walking over to the bath is just so delicious. In a different way, your man in a nice pair of jeans is also delicious.
They get upset when their mealtimes are delayed.
Nope, can’t come to your house. That’s dinner time and if I mess with that, the bull appears. Don’t play with his eating hours. He must eat. Five minutes too late and it’s crazy, loud, whining panic. I can set my watch by his stomach. First he gets his bottle. Then some cheese. Maybe some noodles, maybe some meatballs. We don’t know, it depends on the day. Don’t skip the dessert. Nothing green. Dinner must be on time. You don’t even want to know about when the baby is hungry.
They love boobs.
You knew this was coming as soon as you saw the title. They LOVE boobs. Nothing better in the morning, all day, or at night. They want to touch them. They want them all to themselves. Those are their boobs. You just carry them.
They don’t listen to us.
Noooo…don’t touch that….It’s like talking to a wall. They are too busy in their own world. Hey baby, can you please…? Nope. You know it’s not getting through because they’re not even looking at you. When did our voice become background noise?
They have a fit when they don’t get their way.
Screaming, crying, pouting, and turning red. Familiar to anyone else? Stopping the baby from tumbling down the stairs strongly resembles shutting down that motorcycle purchase. Geez, I just wanted you to NOT die. Unless you want World War III, don’t grab that choking hazard Lego on the floor or the remote control.
They love to ruin your sleep.
Between the snoring and the feedings, husbands and babies keep you up all night long. They will wake you up at all hours. My husband loves prison shows. Many nights past midnight, the sounds of gang riots startle me awake. The adrenaline rushes through me like when the baby screams in that alarming, high-pitched, distressed way at night. Great, now I’m up for a while.
They smell good.
There’s nothing like that newborn smell. I love to breathe my baby in as he sleeps on my shoulder. Moments like those are so calming and wonderful. Speaking of smells, I’ll follow a stranger in Target wearing Acqua Di Gio. That’s the cologne my husband used to wear when I met him in college. I still adore that scent.
See babies ARE just like husbands and we love them. We love them in different ways and they drive us crazy in the same ways. Nonetheless we love them fiercely.