Every new parent does it.
Your child, or children, do something that you can’t explain. So you turn to the Internet to create an unreasonable and panicked diagnosis.
Now, I’m not a doctor. I’m not a scientist. I’ve bragged about being an amateur gynaecologist in the past, but that is a different story for different reasons. One thing I do know is that you should leave the doctoring up to the doctors. You aren’t doing yourself a favour with a late night Google sesh about your child’s incessant drooling and then olympic long jumping to the conclusion that they have fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva.
With that said, I’m here to help you. Like a poltergeist mechanic, or the invisible and sexy God of household chores, or the random millionaire that decides to pay for your bar tab on the night when you meant to say ‘half pint’ but mistakenly said ’40 Grey Gooses for everyone in the bar’.
Next time you want to google that possible fifth dimensional skin disease your healthily farting baby has, place your ocular inputs on this modern piece of pseudo-serious diagnostic wonderment.
Remember, I’m doing you a favour by making things so weird that your next Google will be a retaliatory porn search. Like it should be. LIKE A HEALTHY PERSON.
Symptom in bold italic: Diagnosis in regular text.
Here we go (again, I am not a fucking doctor)…
Doesn’t respond to his or her name: Probably just asleep.
Cries whenever put in crib: Doesn’t like to be put in crib.
Reaches for phone or iPad whenever you put the device down: Wants to see what is more important than them.
Won’t take a bottle: Haunted baby syndrome.
Doesn’t make eye contact: Will at one point in their lives fight a ghost and lie to the police about it.
Snotty in the morning: You’ll need an old priest and a young priest who can take a beating.
Your child is a hard snorer: In their twenties they will argue the artistic merits of Britney Spears being an artist. They will be very, very lonely.
Constantly uses high pitch screaming as a form or communication: Tis just a magical wind.
Cries a minimum of 40 minutes before a nap: Future murderer. Everyone knows this.
Such a heartfelt story and there are people out there like that…what moved me more Trent was that you took the time to write about it making us all aware of your feelings and the relationship with you have with Elizabeth. I applaud you as a father and a man with strong morals…. Kudos to your parents for raising such a fine young man and Elizabeth you are one of the lucky ones to snatch up someone with a sense of humour, yet a very kind and endearing heart. The young lady certainly was kind and her recognition is noted in your thoughts. Merry Christmas to you all.
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Something like that happened to me once in Safeway. An older man approached me (I was also wearing my son in a carrier) and complemented me on the baby, and then gave me a twenty. I was thinking he was crazy at this point. I said “I don’t need it,” and he said “it’s for the baby, buy something for the baby,” and it was just so sweet. A total stranger!
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Please remember, Not-Doctor theTrentWilkie – that some of these symptoms will continue to manifest in the teen years: Doesn’t respond to his/her name – probably facing a computer screen/smart phones; Won’t take a bottle – this morphs into, won’t eat vegetables; Doesn’t make eye contact – computer screen/smart phone is the only thing that registers in their vision; Snotty in the morning – duh, teenager here; Cries a minimum of 40 minutes before attempting to perform the assigned chore – again with the future murderer, as everyone knows. Have fun now, Not-Doctor theTrentWilkie – for thy time is coming.
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