Have you noticed how many people have asked you recently to vote for their child for one of these cutest kids contests? Most of the time I am happy to do so, unless it involves me providing a username, submitting a password, and signing up for weekly emails about exciting news concerning baby wipes and recalled high chairs. Everyone thinks their child is attractive, but few have the confidence to push forward their child for catalog work. Isn’t it a little presumptuous to insist your offspring should be Little Mandarin of the Year or Ms. Cutie Pie Tater Tot 2012?
Let me just tell you that this would not have been happening in West Chester, PA in 1980. At no point would my mom have been hassling her friends for votes so I could be named cutest anything.
1. There are only about four pictures that exist of me as a child. My mom claims, “she never seemed to have a camera around” for at least the first seven years of my life.
2. Submitting me for a contest would require acknowledging I exist. So my dad was useless.
3. In order to be considered a “cute” child you probably couldn’t sport a massive knot in the back of your hair six days of the week.
4. “Cute” kids are usually ones with sparkling personalities. I have been this sarcastic since the womb.