Fake Babies: What Ever Happened To Just Getting a Cat?

As one of the few single, childless members of MamaPop, I have a tendency to look at other people's children and become ridiculously incoherent as my biological clock ticks like Big Ben. I talk to my cats, I practically drool over infants, I adore goofing around with kids and demanding of them why they don't have jobs. And don't tell me "because I'm three," that's no excuse. I love kids. Love em! But I will NOT be buying a creepy doll and pretending it is a real, live child.

But there are women who do. And to say they make me uncomfortable would be a GRAVE understatement.

The British documentary "My Fake Baby," which can be seen on BBC America, explores the phenomenon of women who purchase disturbingly lifelike baby dolls, dress them up, buy them car seats and strollers, and carry them around as if they were real. Grown women. Pretending DOLLS are BABIES.

Behold as Matt Lauer tries to not run screaming:

I won't lie, it took me several tries to get through that video, as I was squirming so violently I almost fell off the couch. For one thing, the dolls do not look like real babies. They look like DOLLS. Because they ARE DOLLS. Creepy, perhaps DEMONIC ALIEN DOLLS. And I've seen the "Talky Tina" episode of The Twilight Zone enough times to know that lifelike dolls are EVIL. I love babies, and look forward to the day when I have my own, but if one of those dolls was in my house, I would never sleep again, lest it slither onto my chest and steal my breath as I slumbered.

Now, I joke, but watching the video, I found myself twinged with sympathy and a little sadness for these women who obviously yearn to be mothers, so much so that they devote themselves to (THOUSAND DOLLAR) plastic replicas of infants. And if carting around the Son of Chucky in a Snugli fills that yearning? Well, the best to them. At least these babies will never crap in those designer baby clothes or need braces for their demon fangs teeth or want to go to Evil Clown College Harvard. But I assure you, I have never felt so relieved that the extent of my baby-fever is writing blog entries in the guise of my cat.

I mean, it's a slippery slope, people.

I'm just sayin'.