And I would not give you false hope, not on this strange and mournful day. Most of our selections this morning deal with kids in one form or another, and before we get started, allow me to say that the Raven has never been very fond of the young. They're midget idiots, far as I'm concerned, and when a waitress at a restaurant asks me if I've got a seating preference, I usually say, "Yeah, no children!"

Nothing ruins a romantic dinner over candlelight faster or more thoroughly than the screeching and howling of someone's lil' toddler. But I guess people think I'll enjoy listening to that diaper-swaddled pair of bellows raising a ruckus louder than the roar of a Pratt and Whitney jet engine. They guess wrong, because I'm the guy who whips his head around and snaps, "Silence your animal!

Seems to me that we ought to be able to find a compromise here. How about it, parents? When I go out to eat, I'll leave my air raid warning klaxon at home, and you return the favor by finding a babysitter for your bawling little brat. It isn't just the noise, either, because I gotta tell ya, the visuals don't work for me. Just one look at your little guttersnipe with its goalie face-mask pacifier, bulging eyes, and waving tendrils is enough to put me off my appetite. And if that doesn't do it, the concomitant baby-urine-and-saliva smell will.

The gubbering, the barking, the snivelling—I didn't sign on for that package, you did. So keep your repugnant, snot-nosed anklebiter out of sight and out of earshot and we'll get along just fine.

Poor Taste

That's my take on God's Little Ones, the Website where you can order an anatomically correct recreation of a stillborn micropreemie that can be worn as a lapel pin.

From 3 weeks to the third trimester, they'll take an ultrasound photo and sculpt a cherished keepsake that you can wear, wall mount, or even place into a coffee mug or hollowed-out apple, as shown here. From their literature:

These dolls are requested as memorial dolls or dolls that celebrate the miracle birth of real living children. The parents have supplied all medical records that validate the accuracy of these models as life size portrait sculptures. The parents have given permission to the artist to create editions of these dolls to be sold to parents who do not have photos of their babies and are looking for comfort dolls.

Give Him a Medal

Not jailtime. I'm talking about Daniel Cunningham, the former Northwest Airlines flight attendant who pled guilty yesterday to "assaulting a 19-month-old baby" on a flight from Amsterdam. Seems that the enfant terrible was doing what babies do best: screaming. So Cunningham used his noggin and slipped a Xanax into the little tyke's drink.

The Oakland County girl's mother, Beate Turner, took the juice off the flight after noticing that it was bitter and foamy and had blue and white specks floating in it. The girl drank some of the juice, but suffered no serious injury.

They Go Bad

Most kids do. In my experience, if you're a so-called "proud parent," you're looking at something like a 50-to-1 shot that the little tyro is gonna turn out right. Most likely, the pride of your loins will wind up sporting a spikey "do," a brace of tatoos, and more piercings than an ocarina. Then the little bastard will turn to a life of petty crime.

They have the same problem in England, so authorities over there have set up a proactive Website designed to straighten 'em out—if there's still time. The site is called Rizer, and you can tell it's targeted at young offenders because as you enter, you get to select your own "homie" who will lead you through the content.

Jed's Nikes, the graffiti-type graphics and straight talk of the Rizer site is part of its aim to distance itself from any "discernible connection with government or other traditional forms of authority".

Might even keep 'em from twocking your ride.

1:06:06 PM