Drop it Like It's a Tot

This seems to be the big rage nowadays. Pictures of Barack Obama holding babies.

Am I the only one who thinks that holding babies is an inherently dangerous activity for both parties? Literally, millions of things can go wrong.

Let's say you are the holder. You have to worry about things like spit-up, liquid burps, soilings, wettings, screaming, grabbing, kicking, gouging, crying, bawling, and dodging whatever the baby will throw at you. And ohmygod what if you drop the baby? I can think of nothing worse than that inevitable moment when it slips, and, in dramatic slow motion, the baby proves that Isaac Newton was right.

Let's say you are the holdee. You are either plucked out of your mother's embrace by a complete stranger, or, worse, willingly handed over to a man who might or might not know how to handle you. It doesn't matter that he's running for president. I wouldn't trust Gerald Ford with a full glass of water. The subsequent presidential track record does nothing to assuage these fears. Allow me to present exhibits A and B. And just imagine, for a second, that you're a baby. And, all of a sudden, you're grabbed out of nowhere by this giant, a dozen times your size, who lifts you and points you to the cameras and suspends you in midair, with ten body lengths worth of gravity itching to speed you to the floor.There are so many forces conspiring against you, and all you can do is cry.

Moreover, what if the guy doesn't know how to hold a baby? Have you ever been handed a baby by an overzealous parent? I hate it when someone tells me to hold a baby. All of a sudden, I have this bundle of arms and legs handed to me, and I know I sometimes drop stuff for no reason, and I'm trying desperately not to grab it by the head, and I'm trying to figure out the best grip, and there's something so wrong with that because babies really shouldn't have a grip -- they're not tennis rackets, for God's sake -- and what if I drop it because, again, I drop things for no reason, accidentally, without meaning to do it, and what if the baby's OK, but later in life develops a stutter, or doesn't get into Harvard, and there's no way of knowing it would have gone but for my dropping it, and we'll never be able to know, at least, not for sure, and, meanwhile, the baby is sensing my fear and is becoming more and more scared, and then the fear assaults us both and in the sudden panic, it's all I can do to shove the poor thing back in its mother's arms and retreat for a second, maybe have a seat and breathe, just to wait for the shaking to subside.

Bottom line? NEVER hand me a baby. Not even my own. Especially not my own.