I was reading my favorite Lithuanian newpaper the other day when I learned about the great sport of baby racing.  Baby racing is a sport that’s designed by and for retarded monkeys.  Or poor people in third world countries.  Same thing.

babyracing1

This is the finish line.  See all the moms there holding stuffed animals, dolls and toys?  But that one guy in the middle there, that guy is holding a laptop.  Think about the brilliance of that move.  Your kid is always scooting around the house getting into all the shit you don’t want him to play with.  He grabs your laptop so you yell at him, shake him, throw him down a flight of stairs, etc.  But that just makes him want it more.  So what do you do?  You bring the token of his desire to the baby racing competition to see if it gets any giddy-up in him.

babyracing2

And he’s out to a commanding lead.  Look at all those pathetic, weak babies who are too busy sniffing each others’ asses.  Their parents are failures when it comes to motivation.  What self-respecting child would ever hurry for a stuffed sheep?  You might as well put your son in a dress and call him Nancy.

babyracing3

And he wins!  First place to the kid who will almost certainly be beaten later for playing with toys he knows he’s not allowed to touch.  If you ask me, the beating is necessary if he wants his son to repeat next year.  If he coddles him too much he’s just begging the kid to become complacent.

babyracing4

Is that a Lithuanian Padma Lakshmi?  Goddamn, if I had known that I could meet an impersonator of a D-list celebrity I would have started racing my kids ages ago.

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