Ugly Babies: on being diplomatic

[Nick]

OK. We all know that all babies look like Winston Churchill. Some babies are alleged to be "cute" = vomit away from you.


Wimmin gather round wimmin's prams (or whatever) and proclaim about the beauty/cuteness of baby inside.

I take a peek.


 

Yuk. Bright red, puking, wrinkled, smelly.

"Isn't s/he lovely?" they clamour.

Me, weakly: Yes

Then I find out it is called Kyle, or Kylie, or Chelsey (sp) or Kee-or-an (after the ancient popular cinema drink, presumably) and flee.

Is there a polite way of responding? Other than "Sorry, my 'phone - very urgent"

[Darwins Selection]

It is worth avoiding comments like "Good gracious, it's white!" 

[Nick]

Good plan!

[Misunderstood]

I find it impossible to be PC about babies.

However, the upside is, after a long and turbulent history of "YUK's" I am no longer invited to view or comment on babies.

Suits me.

[Nick]

Scaredy cat

[Barman]

I am trained to say 'you must be very proud'... 

[Nick]

Wimp!

[Misunderstood]

Scaredy cat

No, I must protest.

It is a right I have earned from long periods of conflict started by a simple "YUK".

You, Sir.  Are just jealous.

[Nick]

 

YUK

[Barman]

Wimp!

I received the training after commenting ‘what an ugly baby’… 

[Mark]

It looks just like that film star














Shrek


Mark

[Misunderstood]

YUK

That's it!  You've got it!

All that remains now, is to say it at the right time and you've cracked it. 

[Snoopy]

I have been known to ask if the child has been put in the pram the right way up.

[Nick]

Is it time to revive this excellent thread?

[Miss Creant Commander of the picklement and baking BAb(Hons)]

A woman that I went to antenatal classes with produced what can only be described as a large black fur ball.  The child inside was white.  The mother to no ones surprise rapidly developed post natal depression. 

Whilst living in Wales I gave birth to my youngest daughter, a hugely obese woman in the next bed enquired in a thick (in both senses of the word) Welsh accent, 'what you calling yours then?' Sophie I replied, 'oh thats nice I might call mine that'..........

I know not what sex her child was, nor do I care but the thought of another Sophie born on the same day as mine running around the valleys was too much for me, on my escape from the hospital later that day my daughter Victoria (formally known as Sophie) accompanied me.