Who will live in whose basement?

I think every parent probably spends an abundance of time wondering and worrying over what their child will grow up to be. Luckily for us, we already know.

Bennett was born with thick locks of wild hair that instantly attracted the attention of all the ladies. The nurses couldn't stop talking about it and (prepare to vomit) the nurse on duty during my delivery was actually twirling it as his head emerged. Even with his little newborn cap on, it was clear B is not destined to be in the military.

From US Army Regulation 670-1: Male haircuts will conform to certain standards. The hair on top of the head must be neatly groomed. The length and bulk of the hair may not be excessive or present a ragged, unkempt, or extreme appearance... Headgear will fit snugly and comfortably, without distorted or excessive gaps. Soldiers may not wear hairstyles that do not allow proper wear of headgear...

I'd say that mullet is interfering with the proper wear of his newborn headgear.

As B has grown, his hair has continued to attract attention but that is not his only form of lady catnip. Additionally he has a killer smile that he flashes without abandon whenever there are girls around. What type of girls? He's not picky. He loves the 11 month old in his music class, the 20 something Whole Foods cashier, and even tries to steal other babies' grandmothers.

It remains a mystery to me how he manages to attract so many of these women since he is really sort of disgusting. The boy not only doesn't mind but seems to thoroughly enjoy wallowing in his own filth. He has never fussed nor cried over a dirty diaper and licks the puke off his own hands like a dog. On top of all this, his hair has an uncanny ability to go from dry and frizzy to greasy and matted only hours after a bath.

This is B after a week without a bath.

source

For the final piece of evidence that leads me to my inevitable conclusion (yes there is one), B absolutely loves music. His entire world stops when music is playing.  He is completely mesmerized and freezes to listen whether he was excitedly playing or screaming bloody murder. Even as a fetus, the only way to calm his running man dance moves was to play lullabies for his underdeveloped ears. B loves music so much that I signed him up for a weekly baby music class that even I think is absurd, but he loves it.

All of these facts combined prove that there is only one path that B can follow. He is going to be a rock star. One question remains however and that is: will he be any good? Will he live in our basement and practice in our garage for his gigs at the local high school dances or will we live in his pool house in Hollywood while he tours the world on his pimped out futuristic flying tour bus?

Baby's first album cover

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