Life Story: Chapter Four

After a rough start to the labor pains, I was finally born at 7:43 on March 6, 1980. It was a cold and windy day as early March often is. And like the month of March, I came in like a lion. Just screaming and attacking every gazelle in sight. Okay, not so much with the attacking gazelles. But I'm sure there was screaming. Birth is a very traumatic process. Especially for me. I had a thing ripped out of my had for cryin' out loud. You'd be screaming too.

I don't remember much of that first year of life. In fact, I don't remember any of it. All I can tell you is that I was adorable. Scroll down for proof.

Here I am at one month. Okay, I'll admit, not that cute. I mean, yeah, there's a babyish kind of charm there, but honestly, I've seen cuter babies. But I'm not one to automatically think that babies are cute. When you think about it, newborns are kind of gross looking. Then again, this is one month later. I should have had time to mature.

Now this is more like it. I guess for me it took three months to hit adorable. Just look at that smile. Not something you'll often see these days, but there's proof that I can do it and have in the past.

At six months I looked a little like Churchill.

And at nine months I looked like a dork. What's this? A Christmas outfit of some kind? With a bow tie? Really? Please note that at this age I was not dressing myself. This could have all been part of my mother's ongoing plot of revenge for missing Eight is Enough. It's one TV show woman, get over it already.