Tonight on Dateline: Infant bulimia

It's gone beyond simple spitting up. I leave the room and come back to a pool of puke and the telltale glossy fingers, which, like gunpowder residue, provide forensic proof that this kid is most definitely gagging himself on purpose. But why? Why would a beautiful, healthy infant, with adoring parents and google-eyed grandparents engage in such behavior? Some might say attention. Daddy does have to come to the rescue and wipe off the barf-spackled cheeks, nose, hands, and yes, sometimes eyes and ears, every time that he hears that familiar gurgle-cough-yak noise. But this child is far too intelligent for that. He knows that coos, cries, and consonants are enough to draw Daddy's attention like blue lights draw flies. Examine exhibit A, below.



Some might say that he's just practicing cause and effect. Others might say that it's a series of coincidences, accidents that just keep happening. Still others might talk about acid reflux, acid rain, pH levels in the atmosphere, Freudian needs for oral gratification. But I hold that the answer is much simpler. It's SoCal culture. Babies here aren't like babies everywhere else. Our babies roll in Bugaboo strollers, sporting Coppertone tans, wearing designer threads, and drinking designer formula. They're the Olsen twins, Ross and Rachel's baby on Friends, the baby in "Three Men and a ." They pose for Pottery Barn Kids, Janie and Jack, Gap Kids, Pea in the Pod, and even Anne Geddes.

Need further evidence? Every time I change his clothes because he's hurled on them again, I catch him checking out his baby abs in the mirror. He does at least 100 leg lifts on his changing pad every day, and he goes for long periods without formula, only to binge and purge in the wee hours of the night. He is an addict, and I his enabler. Is it my fault that he's in the 90th percentile height-wise but remains constant at the 50th percentile for weight? Genes, you say? Infant bulimia, I say. Some day I hope to take him to an infant psychotherapist, a hypnotist, Richard Simmons, or Oprah--unless, of course, I can exploit his thin physique by getting him jobs as a baby model and actor while I poorly manage his money.

Until that day, I'll just have to get used to spending time with Ralph, Chuck, and Cookie. Anyone know where I can find pink sawdust?