Rule #78: Give Your Baby Plastic Surgery

She has her mother's eyes. No really, we took them from a Barbie doll her mother owned.

Well, sure, your kid is 6 months old, and people keep telling you how cute she is.

But as they ramble, you sort of detect a tone that says, “But, looking at you, I’d say your baby’s cuteness won’t last long—I give it maybe another three or four months, tops.”

This near-sighted buffoon might be on to something.

Despite a certain level of unbridled vanity, you don’t exactly have lots of photos of yourself worthy of gracing the cover of a seed catalogue, much less Vanity Fair.

Which means this is your opportunity to look adorable and otherwise physically appealing, albeit through your daughter.

While she’s barely able to sit up, it’s high time the kid gets a little plastic surgery to set the tone for the chronic perfection you have in store for her down the road.

Of course, there are undoubtedly ugly people out there who will say, “Hey, how in the hell can you do this to a baby? Have you no shame?”

Actually, no, you have no shame—but that’s the point. The point is on your kid’s face, and with a little cosmetic softening, the beauty-pageant invitations will come pouring in. And just consider the benefits of early life plastic surgery, otherwise known as perma-cuteness:

Clip that nose now for less. The older your child gets, the more her nose will grow. Simple rules of nature, right? And you’ll literally have to pay to dispense with a pound of flesh the longer you wait. With less cartilage to work with, the savings can be used to splurge on Taco Bell drive-thru for a solid month.

Scatter the crow’s feet. Even babies have laugh lines, and guess what? Before the age of 2, they turn into unwanted crow’s feet. It’ll get to the point where strangers will guess your child is 5 when she’s really 4 ½. And who can withstand that level of embarrassment?

Botox for bambino. Want your son to look like he’s been in a few a scrapes with the neighborhood toughs in the park’s sandbox and held his own? Nothing says, “I’m a badass” like swollen lips and a puffy forehead.

Radical moves? Nah, it’s not like you’re talking breast implants. You’ll have plenty of time to save for those when your daughter (or fancy-pants son) is 13 and wants to turn a few heads in the locker bay.

Tagged as: living vicariously through children, scarring children's memories