I have always thought that babies were so cute, and they always looked so happy to see me. Then I made the mistake of commenting on the happiness that I bring these little people only to have a reality exposed to me that I might not have been fully capable of hearing. It was gas. That’s right, it turns out that I didn’t make babies happy at all, I gave them gas. I don’t remember asking that parent to expose that little nugget of truth. I was perfectly happy carrying on, narcissisticly believing that I was the joy bringer to these impressionable miniature people. I’ll tell you what, the next time a baby get’s “happy” near me I’m going to share a little “happiness” myself. Let’s see how funny it is then. They may think their gas is funny, but I bet they don’t feel the same about mine.

Hey! Pull my finger.