I often referred to The Child as “skeptical baby.” Not once in his life has he been easily amused. Whatever that baby age is when you smile at a kid and they smile back, we skipped that thing. He actually did the opposite. He gave you nothing in response.
Trying harder would only result in more blank stares. Maybe a scowl.
When I posted this photo of the kid today, I pronounced him the Werner Herzog of bakery enjoyment.
His own father instantly created a Herzogian quote that nails it. He just nails it.
The tedious mastication of this baked good represents to me our plodding, relentless consumption of the minutes, hours and days of our lives; we joylessly consume second after second, reveling briefly over an occasional berry as we march inexorably to our deaths.
Bless you, Herzog Child’s dad. Or not. Life is meaningless chaos anyway.