The Ruse

I'm a blog stalker. I found this blog with a post that describes my sentiments. Exactly. Well, almost exactly...if you change the words "three year old" with "Madeline and Rudder" then we can go with exactly:

Because all the rest of it is wonderfully boring: you sleep, you eat, and you smile. I had no idea babies could do these things without being bribed. I had geared myself up for an epic battle, because you never know with infants. It's a total risk, a game of roulette, and I can't even believe it's legal in Utah to procreate because it is the ultimate gamble. Seriously! You can't buy wine at the grocery store, but you can have sex, get pregnant, and potentially release a homicidal maniac into the world? Are you kidding me? UTAH IS SO CONFUSING.

Sometimes babies come out screaming and never stop, sometimes they are angry that you did this to them, gave them life and now? Now they have no choice but to live it, AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT. Turns out those are the ones who can read at a third grade level when they are only five-years-old. I guess that's what they call a trade-off.

You came out and were all, hey. What's up. Yeah? Really? Because I was just going to lie down over here and look cute. And then sleep. And then maybe sleep some more. And when it's time to eat, I will. And then I will smile. And I will make you want to have more babies.

You are what I call The Ruse. And I am not falling for it, not one bit. No way. I'm guessing your kind is evolution's way of sustaining our species. Because you and your irresistible cuteness and mood could fool a woman into having lots and lots of babies. BUT I AM NO FOOL. You know why? Because I have already lived through the third year of someone's life, and I know yours is coming. And when it hits, when you throw your body across the floor in a fit of rage, I'll be all SEE! I KNEW IT! Behind all those smiles and adorable dimples lies an evil three-year-old!