A Demon in Their Eyes

Post CCXI

Here’s the story of babies, family, and superheroes.

Do all babies hate me? I mean, it started with my second cousin, six months old. The last time I saw her, she spent the entire time staring at me with a grumpy look on her face. Then I met my second nephew for the first time this week, three-months-old, and he spent the entire week staring at me with a grumpy look on his face. And in that time, one of my aunties brought over a 16-month-old baby she’s looking after, and he spent the entire time staring at me. And one my mother’s customers brought over her grandson, again, 16 months, and he spent the entire time staring at me! What is going on? Am I the only one creeped out by all this? It surely can’t be normal!

I know I’m not good with children but I try my best. But what do you do in this situation? Tickle them? No, none of these babies liked that. They looked even more miserable, in fact. A look of their collective faces that said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ What about a rattle? That always works. Yeah, but it didn’t work for me. One of those babies started hitting me with it. The violence didn’t end there, though. The only time my nephew smiled was when he dug his sharp nails in me. The more he dug, the bigger the smile…

Should I be freaking out? Because I’m really freakin’ freaking out. It’s almost as if they can see some horrible future where I commit some atrocious act and have taken it upon themselves to judge and attack me the only way they know how. You could argue I’m being paranoid, readers, but honestly, at this point, I’m exploring all options in my endeavours to figure out the 1,000 yard stares. Honestly, they remind me of the children from ‘Village of the Damned’.

I’d be worried if I wanted children, but I really don’t. I’ve had to look after two children this week. I can assure you, after that, I really don’t want children. I already didn’t want children, but now I really super duper genuinely do not want those little terrors. How to parents cope? I once knew a woman who had a sister who, at only 23, had four children by four different fathers. She didn’t know who any of the fathers were. So she was a single mum. Of four. At 23! I’m one week off 25 and I was out of breath with just one baby after two minutes. I tell you what, single parents are superheroes in my eyes…

My newest nephew is over from Australia and, I’m not being unkind, he is huge. Three months old and he’s the size of a beach ball. As round as one, too. But very, very cute. Lovely uncontrollable giggle on him, too. Not when he’s anywhere near me, the joy sucker from hell, according to all babies I’ve encountered. But my word, he weighs a ton. I woke up the day after I met him for the first time and I couldn’t move my arms. They had completely seized. My biceps were agony to the touch. Every move I made was hell.

My other nephew is older and loves to cause mayhem and disruption wherever he goes. I was running around and chasing after him for the better part of a day. Needless to say, I woke up the next day with legs as seized as my arms. I cannot put into words the pain I was in. I could barely move. I’m not being melodramatic, I literally could barely move.

He has thrown more things at me than I care to mention, too. Plastic balls, a plastic golf club, toy metal cars, his shoes, his food – I told you babies don’t like me. The terror didn’t end there, though. He had 50 plastic balls. I had to fish them out from under the hedges. I’m not kidding, my right hand was covered in blood. Ah, blessed thorns. Thank you for your unending misery…

I haven’t even mentioned the child lock on the car door that trapped me inside because I couldn’t figure out how to open it. They should call them Houdini locks because he’s the only fella who could figure out how to get out.

We’ve taken my nephew all over this week, including to one play park he wouldn’t leave. That said, he did enjoy spinning my dad around and around on this circular – thing. I don’t even know how one would describe it. It’s sort of on an angle and spins around. He didn’t want to go on it, though. Oh, no, he wanted his grandpa to go on it and spin him around. His 64-year-old granddad. I remember the moment when he went flying into the air before hitting the ground and rolling a couple times. He couldn’t get up. He’d really hurt himself. In true British fashion, I immediately went to get the camera…

We’ve also taken him to see some animals. Little baby girls love animals. They’re naturally very caring and considerate. They love nature and wildlife. Little baby boys, on the other hand, particularly enjoy chasing the baby ducks and chickens and throwing rice cakes at them. He almost grabbed one of them. “Dinner,” he said. Poor chicken. It runs in the family. When I was a baby, I once caught a pigeon in Trafalgar Square in London. I also once grabbed the tail of a goat and wouldn’t let go as it dragged little old me around its pen. I have a photo of that. But I’m not showing you it.

My nephew also enjoyed feeding the meerkats, which, by the way, are nothing like they are on the adverts. He enjoyed the exhibition that had birds from his homeland, Australia. Or ‘Authtwalia’ as he said with that lisp all babies seem to have. He also enjoyed the really old turtle they had, although he was adamant it was a tortoise. “No, uncle. It’s a tortoise.” “No, son, it’s a turtle.” “No, stop, you’re wrong.” “It says it’s a turtle on the sign.” “Ith wrong. Tortoise.” “Should I go and tell the staff that?” “Yes. Needs changing.” He’s a clever lad. He can count to 20 in Arabic, you know. And Spanish. He’s not even three yet…

They also had a snake. My nephew wasn’t impressed. “It’s a big snake, isn’t it?” “No.” Well, it’s tiny to an Australian. They also had a tarantula. There was a young school class on a trip at this place. The staff were showing them this massive female tarantula. They were stroking it and everything. I never had trips that good in school! The best I got was when they took me to an army training camp for a week. Which was not fun. It’s easier being a parent. Why would you send young children to an army base? Trying to send them a message? Didn’t work, bubba.

Despite the difficulties, I’ve had fun with my two nephews. I haven’t seen one before and the other I last saw over a year ago. And when they leave, I won’t see them again for a couple years. So it’s nice to have these moments. I’m struggling to connect with them, I’m really terrible with children, but I’ve liked it. It’s corny, but these are moments I’ll never forget. People have more time with relatives than I do and they take it for granted. Time is very precious. Love every second you’re with those you love. Hold those moments as close to your heart as if they were the last moments you’d spend with them. Family is the only thing were guaranteed to have throughout life. Something I’ve never forgotten.

Although I think nothing I do can ever change the minds of the babies of this world.

I think I’ll always be a demon in their eyes…

Peace Out :|:


I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.


Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post

Hark Around the Words
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post


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