Sometimes, a picture really is worth a thousand words.

I have decided to prove that theory with today’s post.

You see, first there was my Shalebug:

Look at how adorable that kid was. Even when he had to wear a drool bib and his feet were too crooked to fit in shoes and he had to wear slippers everywhere he went, he was still the epitome of cool.

I mean, not everyone can rock the walker like he did and still be sporty chic.

Then there is the Jumbster, my Jumby:

So his feet are turning a wee purple from poor circulation, and he has to be strapped into his walker because he hasn’t quite figured out he has hands come equipped with opposable thumbs, but damn, that kid is one good looking child. As soon as the adoption decree is burning a hole in my hand (soon! very soon!) I’ll take his wig off and shave that beard he’s got growing just so you can see for yourself. But trust me, like his big brother Bug, he’s got it going on in the cute department.

He’s so cool we call him Ice.

Then there is this:

Ya.

Not so cute. My self esteem may never recover. But hopefully my back will.

Somehow I just can’t carry off this look. I think you need to be under four feet tall or over the age of 70. Anything in between and you may as well just pin a Kick Me sign on your ass.

Today’s humiliation post is brought to you by my daddy, who so thoughtfully brought me the Ego-Killing Walker and has commanded me to use it.

I’m not sure he brought it over to be helpful or to be mean. Either way, I’m pretty sure he’s getting the last laugh.

There’s a joke in here somewhere. I think I’m just distracted by my new shiny aluminum handlebars to see it.

Sigh.