Everywhere I turn — there it is, a haunting reminder of everything I’m not. Who or what is this Gerber baby anyway? Is it a girl or a boy? I mean, fine, it’s cute, but it’s not like it’s the only baby in the world worth photographing. I don’t even think it’s a real baby. Anything is possible nowadays, with computers, Photoshop, and airbrushing— heck, with the right lighting, I could be the next Gerber Baby. That, and I would have to lose those last few pounds of baby fat.
You know, I find that breast-milk really packs on the pounds. It’s high in calories and it’s impossible to get rid of! I mean, look at the facts. I was born a slender 5 pounds 6 ounces, and after only six months of nursing, I gained ten pounds! Mother thinks I’m all “healthy” and “normal,” but what does she know? There’s so much pressure to look good these days, she just wouldn’t understand. She doesn’t have to prance around in those baby-doll dresses she puts me in— the ones that expose my behind every time I bend over—well, aside from the time I crawled in on her and daddy wrestling. Her baby-doll dress was see-through.
If it sounds like I’m annoyed with my mother, it’s because I am. She’s not the least bit considerate. She knows that I’ve been trying to work out. I admit, I didn’t do much for a long time. I would just lay there in my bassinet as though the pounds were going to come off by themselves, but I’ve changed. I’m taking my workout regimen very seriously. I’ve started crawling every day. It’s hard on my knees, but looking good requires sacrifice. The least my mother could do is to switch me to low fat formula, and if she won’t do that, could she at least stop noshing on chocolate cake before bed—I’m the one who has to burn off what she eats all day!
As if mother wasn’t selfish enough, she had the audacity to switch me from Pampers to Luvs. Are you kidding me? A bargain brand diaper! She knows cheap diapers make my backside look lumpy. You would think she would stop pinching pennies for the sake of her “little princess,” but apparently mommy needs to save a couple of bucks every month to get her upper lip waxed. She tells people that she’s gotten hormonal issues ever since I was born. I don’t have time to worry about her issues. I’ve got problems of my own. In a few months, I’m going to be moved to the toddler room at daycare. I don’t even have time to get rid of my baby fat. What will the other toddlers think if I come in there with rings of chub around my thighs? I had to take drastic measures. I decided to start walking. I heard from one of the infant room graduates that walking burns even more calories than crawling! If that’s true, then I’m going for it. At this point, I don’t have a choice.
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They’re looking for the next U.S. Girl at the U.S. Girl Store downtown. I’m going to the competition. A lot of girls in the 3rd grade are. Last year’s U.S. Girl doll was Nicki. She’s a blonde-haired, blue-eyed cowgirl who likes animals. The girl in the picture looks just like her. My mom had to buy me a You’re Special doll because none of the dolls with names
looked like me.
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Some ditzy 8-year-old girl named Taylor won the U.S. Girl competition. She came all the way from California ‘cause she was just so darn precious. Well— I heard everyone in California gets work done, so I’m not jealous. I’m pretty sure she
had collagen injected into her lips. Her eyelashes were unnaturally long too. They must’ve been fake. Not to mention, she looked like she hadn’t had a meal since the first grade! I wouldn’t want to be like her anyway. I bet you she was really ugly before she got all that work done, just like that stupid Gerber baby.