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Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Head's Up
Noggin lovin', brain toastin'
Well, bugger me backwards and spit out the bits. What's this madness I've witnessed in the last two days where tiny babies have been outside without hats on? It's been - pardon the jargon - fucking freezing but these teeny tiny creatures, with the same capacity to regulate their temperatures as a bag of sand, are out in the equivalent of the Everest death zone as bald as Britney.
Please tell me what the frig is going on. Why, in the depths of winter, would anyone take a baby out without a hat on? Are they trying to create genetic popsicles? Jesus, you'd have to bath the kids in anti-freeze just to thaw them out.
And, as sure as shit, it gets worse because the people who were carrying these nippers were wearing bobble hats. I know, I know, I wish I were making that up too but alas, no, such spam-faced idiots really do exist.
I mean, if it's cold enough for an adult to dig out a woolly hat surely it's cold enough to stick a titfer on a baby. What the frig makes parents think that their offspring is somehow immune to the blasting, sub-zero wind from the Urals? Or that they have a blossoming Torvill and Dean-like obsession with ice? 
Christ, the moment KJ splattered forth from my screeching, prostrate form the midwife stuck a hat on her to keep her snug. She hasn't been titfer-free since then either - it's woolly in the winter and wide-brimmed in the summer. For fuck's sake, I couldn't even tell you what colour her hair really is. It's like living with a three foot high Dolly Parton.
Perhaps I should start staging infant interventions, lobbing baby beenies at gimply parents until they defrost their brains enough to form a sensible thought. God alone knows how many beenies it would take though. Fuck knows if there's even that much wool in the world. For some bleak reason, I doubt it.



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