Sunday, June 29, 2008

Our brilliant and brief career as pageant parents

The local Catholic church* had its summer fayre yesterday. Among the fundraising activities, was a Bonny Baby competition (entry fee £2). When I saw the flyer, I thought:


"Heck yeah, that cash prize/blue ribbon/certificate/goldfish in a bag is as good as mine. Surely, we have the bonniest baby this side of SW19."


I mentioned it to the Vol-in-Law who I thought would surely dismiss the idea out of hand, but he was keen. Eager, even. "I know we have the best looking baby, but it would be nice to have some official recognition."


We even discussed outfits and bemoaned the fact that it was unlikely that we could get him to wear a hat for the period of the judging for maximum cuteness and to cover his still somewhat lumpy head - a potential point loser. Even so, we figured as long as he was in a reasonable mood and we dressed him in bright colors we'd walk the contest.


But then he had the "accident".


Oh, it wasn't much at first. I noticed a scratch on his nose when I picked him up from daycare. But overnight the scratch inflamed a little and scabbed over in a most unsightly way. And in Bonny Baby competitions, I reckon they generally look for a child without blemish.


P1030146 copy bad nose
The Vol-in-Law immediately suspected sabotage. Some other parent, with some less attractive, but still quite cute baby got their child to scratch Buddy's nose in some Tonya Harding -esque bid to knock out the stiffest competition.


Quite clearly he wasn't competition ready - and though I briefly considered smearing a little concealer over the scratch - I couldn't quite bring myself to do that. I didn't want to be that kind of parent.


But I needn't have worried about becoming one of those obsessive pageant parents. The scab fell off and there was but the merest hint of a scratch, but I just couldn't be bothered find a clean, cute outfit and struggle with him over the hat. So we went to the playground instead.

P1030146 good nose
photoshopping away the imperfections



________

*I'm not sure it's technically our local. We probably fall outside the boundaries of the dioceses or parish or whatever it is even though it's definitely the closest Catholic church to our house.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Absolutely unbelievable that you and the Vol-in-Law would even consider it. But from my unbiased point of view, I'm sure he would have been the hands down winner.
Does the faux-winner know how lucky he or she is that your son had that accident??? Vol-Grandmom

Anonymous said...

Phew, you know it's a slippery slope. First it's the local Catholic fete next thing you know you've got one kid in rehab and the other birthing her first of countless love children. Consider yourself lucky.

genderist said...

It must have been sabotage. One of the other parents must have gotten scared.

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