Having been a intentional accidental loosely-associated-oh-wait-you-have-a-kid “mommy blogger” at some point while I’ve been here ::motions haphazardly around all this space and a little bit over here and sometimes, twiddly-fingers, over there::, I’m no stranger to using my social spaces as a digital brag book to show of just how adorable my kid can be when I bribe him with a cookie to stand still just for a second. And with that kind of mental weirdness in the generation of Moms 2.0 means you’re bound to see pictures of other people’s adorable children that have been bribed with cookies to stand still for just a second.
Seeing an earth-shatteringly cute tiny human creates an insanely giddy feeling in the nether regions of women. You’ll read comments about how “uteri are a’quaking” and “zomg! totez getting preggerz” like the shot heard ‘round the world. But you won’t find these ladies at the corner of Lexington and Concord. No, ho, ho you won’t. Because, unbeknownst to these women, they’re getting this sensation in their computerus and should refer to Dr. Google immediately.
The computerus is a non-fictional part of the female anatomy that explodes at the sight of cute children on the internet. You think that it’s your real-life baby factory because the symptoms are eerily similar. However, do know that you do not really want to have more babies because you saw that one cute baby of your friend’s friend’s brother’s third cousin on Facebook, covered in frosting from a first birthday cake. If you find yourself figuring out your ovulation schedule as a result of seeing a cute child on the internet I urge you not to focus on those piercing baby blues or the miniature legs disguised as a bakery full of ALL THOSE ROLLS, but more the reality that the child in the picture probably just shat or will shit its pants very soon. And then that child’s parents are going to have to change that diaper and it is going to be a war zone up in that Huggie. It’s going to get all over the changing table and in mom’s hair and how it got across the room on the stacking rings that the adorable child always shoves in its mouth is beyond everyone. Then comes the struggle to barricade and quarantine the entire area of the house that has somehow become the opening scene of Contagion 17; a breeding ground for hepatitis and pink eye. And whooooo-boy! God forbid that snuggly-wuggly kiddo has any siblings…::shakes head::
There you have it. Now you know that cute kids on the internet aren’t intended to be motivators of more babies. They’re merely a means to aggravate your computerus.
And pro tip? They don’t make an ointment for that situation. I asked.