It is widely believed that the number of kicks on your arse is directly proportional to your popularity in the vicinity. If that is anything to go by, I most certainly, am one of the most sought after. Everything comes at a price, they say. This, is a heavy price to pay.
The genesis of the concept of birthday bumps continues to befuddle me entirely. Beyond the fact that it is good exercise for the perpetrators’ lower limbs and restricts the freedom of movement of the perpetrated, it does not seem to serve any useful purpose. After much deliberation, I have hit upon, what I consider to be the most acceptable explanation, if one exists, to this heartless ritual
When a newborn first makes an appearance in this world, there ensues, what doctors consider as an elementary testing of the baby’s various faculties. Apparently, even with all the progress medical science is purported to have made through the years, slapping the unsuspecting little characters, quite mercilessly, on the butt is the most efficient method of doing so. The ear-shattering wail that follows establishes the child’s sense of ‘feel’ and vocal competence.
Perhaps, bumps are fallouts of this ingenious human device, an attempt to simulate, as closely as possible, the immediate ambience of those first few moments. And perhaps, also to run a recheck on our continued possession of the faculties mentioned above.
In any event, after having being beaten black and blue, literally, and having absolutely no chances of vendetta anytime in the near future, I found my recourse in rhyme. It is reproduced here for everyone’s benefit. Any comments on the crassness of it shall not be entertained!
A thousand kicks on the butt
Two mountains on the verge of ‘merge’
The aperture that leads out, all but shut
How painfully comes the surge!