Grand Unification Theory of Reproduction

Four out of five doctors recommend removing that leech from your neck. You’re supposed to apply them outside the body. That’s our key action point of the day.

I stylishly removed my fedora and flung it like a frisbee. No phone booths were to be found. I was about to write something for the Daily Diatribe, a major metropolitan daily in the uber city of Grabham. And I was their intrepid reporter.

Yeah, it was something like that when I had my latest epiphany.

We all know parents are the worst people to have children. But why?

The idea came to me when watching the birth of a little baby deer. Plop! It landed on the ground. Gross. But in a few minutes it struggled to it’s feet. It was already walking!

A few more minutes and it was able to prance. And, by the very next day, it was able to beat an average University of Portland student at ping pong. But what did this mean? (Besides the fact that UP students can’t play ping pong for shit.)

Oh, yeah. Now I remember. Human babies are slow at survival and being able to fend for themselves. Our species may be the most intelligent (heh!) on this planet but it comes at a very high cost. We all start as utterly helpless lifeforms.

And therein lies the rub.

A human baby is designed, by evolution, to be the most irritating thing in the world to the life forms that should love it the most.

It poops and pees many times a day. It ignores the normal boundaries of the day/night paradigm. And although it is born unable to walk or even take care of its own bubbling nose, it has a set of pipes that would give 787 Dreamliner an inferiority complex.

Meanwhile, aside from an alleged cuteness (which is debatable) it has very few redeeming qualities. It doesn’t produce anything of value. It can’t try out for The Voice. It doesn’t pay taxes. Hell, it can’t even tweet. What? No content!

So why does it do some many perturbingly rage-inducing things?

If you think about it, evolution knows what it’s doing. The initial helpless phase of human life, which lasts until age 36 or so, is designed to make parents hate their offspring. That’s the only possible conclusion. Even parents with the best of intention are doomed from the start.

See? Bad parents aren’t made. They’re born. You might as well ask, “Which came first? The chicken or the egg?” That’s another thing! Humans have the wimpiest eggs.

The other day I was struggling to understand the unquenchable parental urge to resort to corporal punishment as a way to instill values. (That makes sense. The more I beat you the more moral you become. It’s so obvious.) But now it’s all so clear.

So, what can be done? Perhaps human babies should only be raised my the so-called lesser species. That Mogli fellow sure seemed to have a lot of shit figured out. He was one cool cat with his bear necessities and all.