A friend sent me a photo of an ugly kid the other day. It’s a kid um…owned? by someone we both know (although aren’t necessarily friends with), although I won’t say who, nor will I say who sent me the photo. I will say that I’m glad it was sent, as I’m glad I have friends who understand that despite everything parents say, there are ugly children out there, and while nobody has to scream that in a child’s face, sometimes it just has to be acknowledged.
Even in secret text messages. Which I won’t even screenshot here because I believe in privacy, up to and including my friend’s replies. Oh yeah, and the kid itself, but yeesh. I mean, you’re welcome, you guys.
So when my friend sent me the photo, naturally the message that preceded it promised to “chill your bones,” and of course I responded with the following:
“…that kid looks like a 50-year-old hillbilly with a drinking problem.”
“That is the photographic definition of the word ‘assface.’”
“…it would’ve been hard to pretend that that kid isn’t a human cannonball made of beef jerky and hair.”
“That kid is going to be on the news as an adult. I can tell.”
I’m not saying it’s the ugliest kid ever, and I’m not saying that it won’t outgrow that weird awkward phase that strangely no one else experiences at that time in their lives (so either everything’s going to get horrifyingly worse or that kid will grow up to have the most graceful puberty in the history of the world). I’m just saying that right now, it’s a bit of a mess and I’m not even sorry to say it.
Don’t worry, I’m probably not talking about your kid. I would never talk about your kid this way. I’m sure you’d know if I was talking about your kid, because deep down inside, I know parents know. I know they know when there’s something off about the way their kid looks. If they’re being honest with themselves, they can set aside that crazy undying well of love and admit to themselves just in a whisper that by god, this kid better grow up smart, because if this train stays on track it’ll be damn difficult when everyone grows up and starts getting mean.
Like me. Obviously. Who was a damn ugly baby, by the way, to the point that I’m shocked my parents took me out of the hospital. I grew out of it once I got to Ugly Photo Kid’s age and was as cute as a bug’s ear (don’t know what it means, just like the sound of it), but I don’t lie to myself. I know the truth. And so does every parent out there.