Look. Babies are more or less bald and, unless you’re a parent, they’re kinda goofy looking. That’s just how it is. Why can’t we, as a nation, accept this simple fact? And by nation, I mean STOP IT, MOMS. Your baby is a baby. Let it be a baby. Stop making it a fashion accessory upon which to project your own hideous tastes for all the world to see. Because the rest of us are tired of looking at that thing on your child’s head. Seriously. Just stop it.
I’m speaking, of course, about ridiculous baby headbands – and let me say up front that when I say, “ridiculous baby headbands,” I mean ALL baby headbands. I don’t care if it’s just a simple Flashdance headband because your baby is dancing for her life, or if it’s one of those monstrous flower bands that look like little nightmarish floral explosions bursting out of your child’s skull. They’re all horrible.
Aside from how horrible they look, you’re probably squishing your child’s brain. Think about that. It’s got to be some level of child abuse, except scientists haven’t bothered to do any science that proves the physical damage caused by headband abuse. I won’t lie; it really bothers me that one derpy “scientist” can publish false information that leads to a nationwide, Jenny McCarthy-fueled vaccination panic, but not a single one of them can be bothered to publish a paper on the dangers of ridiculous baby headbands. It’s like science isn’t even trying to be beneficial to mankind anymore.
I know you want your kid to be pretty and, let’s face it, boy babies aren’t really subjected to the headband horror. It’s almost exclusively reserved for girls, because gosh darnit, the most important thing for a vagina-bearer is to be pretty first, and anything else second. So I guess we need to start conditioning them as early as possible. You know, before they even understand what the hell is going on. Sure, your daughter might not understand or care why her mother insists upon strapping a bit of elastic itch torture to the top of her braincase, but there’s bound to be a good reason for it. Mom knows best, right?
Wrong. If you do this to your child, all you’re doing is casting a spotlight on your own insecurities (that you’ll probably pass on along to your special snowflake, by the way). Babies, while a little goofy looking, are all adorable in their own way. No one outside of a few scramble-brained creepballs is ever going to look at a baby and think that the situation could be greatly improved with the addition of some elastic, hot glue and a criminal overuse of tulle.
If people think your baby girl is a boy, then so what? Babies are pretty gender-neutral, or at least they should be. However, if you’re terrified of mistaken gender reassignment, then by all means, dress your little darling up in pink puffy princess petticoats to let the world know that it doesn’t have a penis. But nobody really cares. Except you, maybe. Either way, she doesn’t need the headband.
To the rest of us, if we bother to comment on your baby, it’s almost certainly going to be intended as a compliment. If we mistake a boy for a girl or a girl for a boy while we’re telling you how adorable your baby is, then just take the compliment, say thanks or whatever, and don’t quietly seethe inside while your curse yourself for forgetting to apply the skull-strap wedgie to your child’s cranium before you left the house this morning.
And that’s all I have to say about that.
Well, except for one more thing. While boys tend to escape the ridiculous headband nonsense, they’re often victims of the Parental Mohawk. It’s the same thing as the headbands, really, just less brain-squishy and more temporarily permanent while you wait for the hair to grow back. No child should be forced to have a mohawk if they’re under the age of being able to say things like, “I really hate looking like a tiny douchebag, Daddy.”
Now, if your kid is old enough to articulate his desire to look like someone just shot the tires off of his home, then by all means, go ahead and let him have the mohawk. It’ll make him look hip and cool and edgy…a veritable prepubescent Billy Bad Ass, I’m sure. Yeah, it’ll still say more about the parent than the child, but isn’t that pretty much the goal, anyway?
© 2013 – 2016, Kristian Bland. All rights reserved.