The Lip

My child was born with her bottom lip out. You know that sad face babies make and it tears your little heart strings? Well, ok. It only does that if it's your kid. She could push that lip out like no other kid I have ever seen. Showing her general displeasure at having been pulled out of a nice warm place by a bunch of aliens and crying people. J and I thought {{think}} it was {{is}} the cutest thing in the world. She learned to put it out anytime she felt life wasn't going her way. Her little infant way of telling us, "My life is shit and I'm not too young to know it."

If she would get bored with one of us or our antics to try and make her laugh, she would look to the side and put her lip out. "Are these really my parents?" Once I walked into her room to find her with her giant frown and her bottom lip curled down to her chin. Perhaps mad at having been laid down for a nap or maybe the letters spelling her name above her crib said something to offend her. I guess I'll never know. Another time her Angry-Bunny {{Angry-Bunny made her angry like no baby should get, hence, it's name. But it was her favorite}} hurt her feelings and she stared at it with her lip out as far as she could for a full minute before she saw something shiny. She. was. serious.

When we took Bug home for Christmas the year she was born, J's family explained that his grandpa used "The Lip" to get his point across when he was very angry. Apparently, when he got to the point of "The Lip," the conversation was over. I asked if there was a picture of this so we {{I}} could put it into her little {{huge}} baby book. No one was ever brave enough to take a picture of the man in this state. How fitting.

It's been a while since "the Lip" made an appearance I was starting to worry she had grown out of her family heritage. But today we got to see it {{prompting this maternal flashback}} when Bug thought J was going to leave for work without giving her a hug {{like he could ever do such a thing}}.