Is Antonio the Best Baby Ever?

By now, you're probably sick of my writing about how my son is the absolute best baby ever. This is most likely for at least one of three reasons:

1) You have a child and believe that your child is/was the best baby ever (You are wrong. Antonio is the best. There is no debating this. Although I'm sure your kid is pretty good.);

2) You were once a baby and are pretty sure you were the best baby ever. (You would be wrong on this count, too. [And a bit full of yourself] You may have been the best child ever at the time you were a child, but Antionio is younger than you are [unless you are younger than Antonio, in which case, if you're reading this at less than one week of age, you may, in fact, be better than he is, because that's just darn impressive] and has taken the title. It's Best Baby Ever, not Best Baby Ever Except for That Baby Thirty-Two Years Ago;

3) You happen to believe that I am prone to exaggeration and outright fabrications regarding matters of my son and other general topics. (Well... You got me on that one.)

But you have to admit, even if he's not the best baby ever (I'm not saying he's not, I'm saying IF he's not), he's got to be in the top ten.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Sure Antonio's the best baby... er... One of the top ten babies ever, but me, I'm just lucky to be in the top hundred people of all time on my best day (work with me here, people), how can I be sure that Antonio is, in fact, my own flesh and blood.

I, too, was worried about this. I knew Antonio was next to perfect, and I am imperfection personified. Well, I wasn't about to take any thing for granted. No, I didn't pack the Debbie and the kid up and get a paternity test on the Maury show, but I did do a little research and I ended up with 100% infallible scientific proof that Antonio is my son. It may not be DNA evidence, but take a look at the following two pictures:

Can you tell the difference? Neither can science.