There are too many babies on Facebook today.

So, I log in to Facebook.
Okay, that was a lie.
I am always logged into Facebook.
Anyway, that is when I realise that there has been a little crack in the space-time continuum through which I have landed into childhood.
Not my childhood, apparently. The childhoods of all the people on my friend list. Mysteriously, all of them are sporting baby pictures on their displays. Of course, their baby pictures, not random ones.
In order to amp up some massive hipster-irony points, I wanted to post a wry status about it. That didn’t happen. So I spent my time looking at the numerous babies in varied postures. Some of them are crawling, some have thrown their arms in the air in oddly adult expressions of confusion and bewilderment. The others are dressed in clothes that made me cry at our entire generation of parents. Orange pants, yellow spotty shirts and strange poky sunglasses. Seriously, what were our folks thinking? Na
(You don’t need to brace yourself. There’s no meaningful philosophical observation following this. There, now you know.)
There’s also the other kind of baby pictures on Facebook that’s a little more scary for a twenty-something on the dotted line of 25. They belong to the peers who are married and have children. My peers are taking care of little persons! I still consider myself a little person!
All that empowered liberated singledom is just for the image stats, I assure you. Don’t get me wrong, though. I love babies.
I am such a stereotypical millennial, it’s not even funny.


  1. It’s a little terrifying to think of the people I went to high school with who are in charge of another life. I can hardly believe that some of my college friends are teachers. Since when were teachers my own age?

    (since now, I guess)

  2. Haha I giggled my way through the headline and first few lines. It’s so true. The horrifying clothing choices of our parents and the horrifying reality that our friends have somehow produced offspring and are keeping them alive and cute and thus setting some sort of bizarre standard to which we may or may not be compared by ourselves and/or the world. So much here. So much.

    1. Tell me about it.
      I have pictures of me dressed in yellow ochre trousers and bilious green shirts. Why, god, why?
      Offspring. Haha. Yes!
      Oh, we might not compare ourselves, but the world sure does. “Oh ye loose, childless single women, etc etc. “

  3. Ohmygosh I know exactly what you’re talking about! After five people (just five!) on my Facebook became mothers, Facebook decided to show me adds about pregnancy apps and I think I hid under the bed for a week.
    Or maybe I didn’t. I don’t remember. Regardless, it was scary.

    1. There’s this page that Facebook keeps suggesting to me.
      It’s called some Nestle Mommy products or something. My first thought was, “Mom! You should see this.”
      Then I realised.
      It was scary.

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