Meeting the family

Now, I'm not one to brag. But I'm pretty awesome. I was born at 3:03 PM today and I was way better than any of the other babies in the nursery. They all cried like banshees and I stared at them like the fools they were. I wondered what the heck these idiots were crying about. Then it hit me. They're jealous of how great my family is and ashamed of how much their family stinks! I guess I would cry too if I was in their position. So to rub it in their little mewling faces even more, here's how my first hour or so of life went.

First, I was born.

Things were off to a good start. I mastered breathing in no time and I didn't cry at all. After that, I met Mom. I was really impressed with her and I didn't think anyone would top her in terms of poise, intelligence, and charisma.

But then I met dad. And I glimpsed the very face of perfection. It was like God decided to combine the good looks of Paul Newman and Tom Brady with the wit of Jonathan Swift and Kurt Vonnegut. Not to mention the pure cool of Mike "Stroker Ace" Cooley.

Then we hung out as family for a minute before I met some of the grandparents.

So I guess I understand why the other babies were crying. Their families were terrible compared to mine. If I had to sum this all up in a series of two pictures, the first being the other babies' families and the second being mine, I guess this is as good a representation as any:

vs.