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My Baby’s an A**hole

When my wife was 20 weeks pregnant, she loved to report the baby kicking. At first, I was thrilled to hear of the little guy moving around. Nice to know he’s doing ok. Wifie felt especially connected to the kid— she loved to feel his little limbs and body developing each day.

But after doing a little research, my excitement quickly morphed into concern and then deep worry. Began reading articles online talking about how babies that are active in the womb often turn out to be colicky and difficult. After reading this, I thought, “Great, my baby’s an a**hole.”

I’m sure of this because I come from a line of a**holes. I see it in myself, my dad, and my grandma. I call it the “Huang A**hole Gene”. I’m also positive those who preceded Grandma were a**holes as well. Probably spent the bulk of the day tilling the fertile soils of Taiwan and then coming home to spend evenings berating the spouse and kids. In short, a typical and productive day.

Grandma was a real gem. Though she loved her grandkids, it took little to piss her off. Doing something stupid like leaving straggling grains of rice in the bowl after a meal was sure to result in a scolding.  In her mind, the damn Japanese never left Taiwan, the war is still raging and food is being rationed. So don’t waste anything you spoiled American kids. But we were ok with her, because we knew she loved us in her own way. Plus Grandpa was super cool and spent a lot of time with us. Looking back, I realize it was mainly because he was terrified of Grandma.

So I worry that my baby’s an a**hole. He’s kicking and punching and treating Wifie’s kidneys like punching bags.  In the stillness of the night, I thought I heard the distant cries of a dog missing his master. Turns out to be my wife’s kidneys whimpering. I’ve contemplated disciplining him. Yes. I said discipline.  Because I believe good parenting starts early. Really early. Discipline-in-the-womb early. Gentle discipline, of course. But still discipline.

I wonder if it’s ok to put a little pressure on him, just to let him know who’s boss. You know, like gently squeeze my wife’s tummy to mash his face into her stomach. Or maybe do an ultrasound, have our doctor locate the baby’s head and then I tap him on his melon, just to put a check on his attitude. It’s kind of my way of saying, “Hey buddy, you think you’re the sh*t? Yeah, well, I’m waiting for you.”

I told my wife my plans. She just stared at me. “Are you insane?” she asked. “What kind of idiot would even think that?” “But I’m not gonna raise a kid who’s an a**hole.” I coolly reasoned. She retorted: “He’s just a baby!! He can’t help it! [KICK] You’re being ridiculous! [PUNCH] Ooh, that was a big one. [JAB, UPPER-CUT, ROUNDHOUSE] He’s really active. I have to lie down. Don’t be a**hole!” she said protectively grabbing her belly as she walked away.

I stood there impressed at the baby’s control of his mommy and the situation.

A**hole Baby: 1

Daddy: 0

Game on, Little Man. Game on.

  1. August 5, 2013 at 5:05 pm

    This is one of the funniest stories I’ve read in a while!! There’s a book called “A**hole No More” about how to rehabilitate yourself from being one. I just imagined you giving it to him.

    Seriously – may all be well with your family and baby!

    • August 5, 2013 at 8:19 pm

      Thank you for your kind words! Really made my day! I just started thinking about trying to find time to write, and you’ve given me more motivation. Thanks again, and take care!

  2. August 5, 2013 at 8:45 pm


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