you have sex. and then you want me to coo at the result?!

So lot of people i know have been having babies. And some of these people have been kind of upset that i haven’t gone to see their babies.

The thing is i don’t see the point in going to see little babies.

There’s not much you can do, except say a few stock phrases. 1. aaw...he/she is so cute. 2. oh, he/she is beautiful. 3. isn’t he/ she lovely?

Sometimes you can innovate. And say things like, 1. ooh...he/she is a big baby. 2. my god...he/she has so much hair. 3. he/she has lovely eyes.

That’s it. Conversation over. Then you’re just wondering when is it polite to leave. Because their house is looking like a hurricane just ran through it. The parents are looking pretty wrecked themselves. In fact at times they look so manically happy to see human company, that you want to run away even faster before they imprison you in their kitchen. And ya, the slightly sour odour of baby puke and pee are coming in your way of enjoying the samosas they’ve put before you.

You want to leave. And you know the poor tired parents want you to leave too.

So what’s the point? I’m usually wary about cooing over a baby too much, because if he falls sick the next day, the parents are going to be like, “ It was her. She has bad nazaar.” The next time you go over they're scared to bring the baby out, or then you’ll suddenly spot at least one kala tikka on every body part.

So what’s the point? It’s not even like you can say things like, “ hey, you baby looks even uglier than your husband.” Or then, “ ooh, he/she looks just like your driver. Because people get kind of touchy about these things. And if they have parents/in laws hovering around in the background, you can never tell. The samosas might never show up.

Now if it was a new car, it would make sense. At least I’d get a ride. Or we could compare features. If it was a new house, there are a million comments you can make. Or if nothing else you can ask for the broker’s number. (I’ve noticed that always makes new owners very happy. Why, search me!) And before you think I’m a child hater, if the kid was old enough to respond, it might even be fun. But a tiny little thing that can’t even recognise its own parents... what’s the point?

I think it’s the samosas.
Next time I’ll ignore the baby, and go gaga over the samosas.