Cancer Prank

Tuesday, October 23, 2012 | 0 Comment(s)

Let's be clear.  Cancer isn't innately funny.  i get that.  But, in that sliver of space between depression and losing faith, there is unrelenting humor.  Growing up with a paternal oncologist, my psyche somehow bunkered down and took root in this dark dark place of cancer comedy.  I'm pretty sure its the same grotesque space where they manufacture all of those October football hats with pink versions of the teams logos.  (Nothing about a pink faced Raider or Viking screams *breast cancer awareness* to me.  And frankly, when you change the color of the already offensive Redskin's logo to pink, it just becomes an even more egregious collage of insensitivity.)

Yesterday, post morning dog walk and pre-leaving the house for the day, as i was folding some laundry, I had this bizarre prank idea.  What worries me a bit about this bit is that the idea for it came to me first thing in the morning.  I hadn't talked to anyone yet and there were no outside influences pressing in on me.  This idea just came to me.  Cause i'm a sicko.  Enjoy

What you'll need:
1  Tiny little baby.  Preferably a boy, but if it's small enough, it doesn't matter.
1  Primarily bright pink baby outfit.
2  Balls of steel.

The set up:
Take your cute little bundle of joy and dress him/her up in the adorably tiny pink duds you have amassed (if you had a boy and your friends all gave you "gendered" colored clothing, just ask a friend who had a girl, i can almost guarantee you they will have extra pink laying around).

The trap:
The beauty of this prank is that it requires so little planning.  Take said pink-wrapped babe into public.  You can roll out using a stroller or a BabyBj√∂rn.  (yah, i know what a BabyBj√∂rn  is.)  Then all you have to do is wait for the inevitable do-gooding passerby.

When said do-gooder comes along he or she will probably say something along this line, "Oh, what a cute little girllllllllll!!!  ('girl' will be said in a tone of voice that is reserved for dog whistles, breaking glass at a distance, and, apparently, babies.)  You reply:

Oh, he's not a girl.  He just has breast cancer.


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