Kick the Baby!

For fans of South Park, the title of this post may be a little familiar. The sometimes-common (is that even possible?) activity of kicking Kyle's (I think) little brother through a window. Being half-Canadian, it was justified, according to the show.

But this post take a much more serious look into Kicking a Baby. It is a real problem. My problem. Yes, I admit.

Hello, I am Naz and I'm a kickbabyholic.

No, before the outrage spills over, I've never really kicked a baby, but I just have this urge to. Weird? Maybe. Am I alone? I have no frickin idea.

Not every baby, of course, just toddlers. Those who've learnt to walk, but can't quite do it right yet. The "babies" who hold on to a parent's hand as they stumble-run along the pavement, who's heads are still proportionally larger than their bodies, with fuzzy hair and animal-emblazoned clothes and little shoes that might go a-flying once a good connection is made between my foot and their head.

I am not a sadist. Or a child abuser.

I just want to volley the crap out of a toddler sometimes. Not as a stress reliever, not for some perverse sexual gratification, not to set the world record in baby-kicking (what is it?). I just want to do it. Just once.

Probably only ever get one chance, in all likelyhood...

But hey, don't hold this against me, I've never kicked a baby, so don't be afraid to like, parade them at volleyable height.

Really, I've never kicked a baby.

Yet.

This isn't me!