“Oh, Minnie. I feel so bad.  I walked into the pub for a night cap, and there was a family eating dinner.  3 young blonde girls, Mom and Dad.  I sat down, admiring the young family and the baby turned towards me, took one look at me and screamed her ass off.”


“What did you do to that baby?”


“That’s what the waitress said.  “Hey, Wolf.  Did you make that baby cry?’  Then the mother cradled her wailing baby in her arms, and said, ‘Oh she does that to my Mom too.'”


“She hates old people.”


“So I asked the waitress for a paper bag, to put over my head and face.  There I was, sitting quietly, with a bag head, trying to drink my beer through a straw, while the screaming baby kept sneaking glances at me.  I tried to appear nonchalant, slurping my beer, while the patrons kept pointing fingers at the bagged beast.”


“That baby has a remarkable talent, for her age.  You know, Wolf, babies are like dogs.  They can tell when there is a deranged person, lurking around, drinking beer with a bag on their head.  If a dog or a baby doesn’t like you, it is a sign, that you are not to be trusted.”


“Yeah, well, then the waitress brought a plate of French fries over to the baby, and that kid ate at least 30 of them.  What a hog.”


“Maybe she was hungry.”


“So was I.  So I walked over to the baby, and said, ‘Hey, kiddo,  are you gonna eat all those fries?’  That’s when my bag fell off, the baby saw me and make such a scene, crying and screaming and carrying on like a wild banshee.  I grabbed a couple of her fries and the family left in a huff.”


“Oh for crazy!”


“Yeah, and I heard them exclaim, as they drove out of sight,  ‘Merry  Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”


“What the hell?”


“Yeah.  And as they drove off, what to my wondering eyes did appear?  But a baby with my bag and my unfinished beer.’




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