Cameron brought his baby boy, Jaylen, to the pediatrician for his very first checkup. Jaylen was wrapped in a soft blue blanket with a pacifier in his mouth and a look of total disinterest in everything except sleep and possibly his next snack.
The pediatrician, a cheerful man with glasses slightly too big for his face, gently examined Jaylen—checking his heartbeat, reflexes, and that mysterious doctor skill of making babies cry in three seconds flat.
Finally, he smiled and said, “You have a cute baby.”
Cameron beamed. “I bet you say that to all the parents.”
The doctor laughed. “No, just the ones who have cute babies.”
Cameron, feeling victorious, puffed up like a proud peacock. “Well, Jaylen gets it from his dad.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but too polite to challenge it.
Cameron wasn’t done. “You should’ve seen me at his age. I was like a Gerber baby who moonlighted as a shampoo model.”
The doctor chuckled. “Well, he’s definitely got strong features.”
Cameron winked. “And a strong future. I already started him an Instagram. Five followers—three of them are my mom on different accounts.”
Just then, Jaylen let out a mighty sneeze that startled even himself. His pacifier popped out and landed directly on the doctor’s clipboard. Cameron lunged to retrieve it like it was a fumbled football, then wiped it off on his shirt and popped it back in like a seasoned pro.
The doctor nodded approvingly. “You’re adapting well to fatherhood.”
Cameron smiled. “Oh yeah. I’ve mastered diapers, bottles, and doing laundry without shrinking things. I even learned how to swaddle without watching a YouTube tutorial—okay, maybe just three.”
As they wrapped up, the doctor stood and said, “Keep doing what you’re doing. He’s healthy, happy, and clearly has a great sense of comedic timing.”
Jaylen chose that moment to unleash a dramatic diaper situation that announced itself like a trumpet solo. Cameron froze.
The doctor coughed. “And a very… expressive digestive system.”
Cameron sighed. “Yep. Gets that from his mom.”
