I make faces at babies. Can't help it. I'm a baby face maker.
Always have been.
Once I encouraged a kid on the 504 King Streetcar to mimic my monkey face (bending my ears out with my fingers, crossing my eyes, and sticking my tongue out in a crescent shape) and the poor little bastard got in big trouble for sticking his tongue out at me.
And he wouldn't stop.
He kept sticking his tongue out and trying to bend his tongue into a crescent with his fingers and his mother kept smacking his hands away from his mouth and telling him to "Stopit!". No sooner did she let go of his grubby, slobbery hands and they were up mushing his stuck-out tongue in half.
The kid had moxie, I'll give him that.
The other day I was with my lovely wife E, and an opportunity to pull a face at this infant in a stroller came up, so I took it.
I shouldn't have.
There I am, mugging away like a Christmas Panto champ, and I hear:
M- (whisper whisper)
F- "Excuse me? Hello? Hello? Hi."
I look up, eyes still crossed, to face two very uneasy parents. The father looked like he was ready to throw down.
B- "Sorry. I''m a baby face maker. Ha ha ha!"
But what really hurt wasn't being looked at like I was some kind of lurking pervert--the kid didn't even smile once.