You Outta Be in Pictures?

Okay, I get that all parents think their baby is the cutest thing on the planet. "Not only do I think he's cute, but other people tell me he's cute. All the time."

I assume those "other people" - grandparents, colleagues, friends - are just trying to be nice. I mean, what else do you say? "Is he creating fractals yet?" "How's his roto team doing?" Not exactly conversation starters. (Of course, asking about Lumpyhead's bracket last month would have sparked at least five minutes of animated discussion.)

Anyway, normal people respond to "This is my infant son," with "Oh, how cute!" They just do, even if they're shown a picture of a shorn monkey.

I've heard there's a chinese proverb that goes "there is only one pretty child in the world, and every mother has it." I get it. I get that every parent thinks his or her baby is adorable.

But mine is. Really.

Strangers stop Bump in the grocery store. Acquaintances swear Lumpyhead should be a baby model. The nurse at the hospital declared that he should be in magazines.

So, I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna send Lumpyhead's pictures to a couple of agents around town, and see what happens. Here are a couple of scenarios I envision:

Scenario A: Lumpyhead gets tons of work, and we no longer have to contribute to his college fund.

Scenario B: Lumpyhead gets a gig or two, contributes a few dollars to his college fund, and Bump and I get some kick-ass baby book photos and tons of bragging rights.

The Disastrous Fallout (yes, I've thought it out this far)

Scenario A: Lumpyhead becomes a vain sonofabitch who takes his looks far too seriously. He begins to judge other people by their appearance instead of their character. Emancipates himself from his bedraggled mother at the age of twelve. ("God, she can't even get out of the house in shoes that match.")

Scenario B: The three grandmothers will NOT SHUT UP about their grandson. Who's a model. And aren't you jealous of their beautiful grandson? They lose all their friends.

The Possible Fallout

Scenario A: Bump tires quickly of becoming a stage dad. Spends all his waking hours taking Lumpyhead to shoots and auditions. His roto team suffers, and the Barking Spiders finish last. I have to start buying the groceries and cooking dinner. The demand for "prepared food" surges, throwing the Bureau of Labor Statistics' market basket update all out of whack. The Consumer Price Index loses credibility. The Dow and NASDAQ crash.

Scenario B: Bump becomes highly offended at the first person to suggest Lumpyhead "doesn't have the right look" or "the boy's temperament really isn't suited for this." Storms out of the room with his perfect son in tow. On the way out, Lumpyhead laughs and waves at the bastard who had the gall to reject him.


I'm sure there's more, but that's all I can think of right now.

Oh, I forgot to mention Scenario C: No one responds to my offer to represent Lumpyhead.

And if that happens, fine. I can still reply to the people who coo "he's so cute" with "Thank you. We think so, too."