Yes, he is cute. Deceptively so. For you, he turns on his charms, his flirty smile, his precious coos. People compliment me on his pretty eyes and his skillful army crawl, but there is evil that lurks beneath his Gerber baby facade. He is slowly weakening me, breaking me down bit by bit. He isn't particularly creative, his torture techniques are well known and expected, but his expertise cannot be denied. He is a Master in sleep deprivation, this baby knows his stuff.
He keeps me up most nights waking me every several hours with his piercing cry. Try as I may, I simply cannot ignore his wailing. By morning he has broken me so that no amount of caffeine can chase away the cobwebs lodged in my sleepy brain. I give in to his every whim. I dole out empty calorie "Puffs" like frozen peas. I turn a blind eye as he chews on a crayon. I allow the older brothers hours of TV, anything to make it through the endless days. Don't tell me this baby doesn't know exactly what he is doing.