Every now and then the internet bestows a meme upon us that reaches near universal usage, regardless of whether or not it holds any amount of universal understanding. Alas, as with much of the ephemera that exists within the confines of a digital existence, it is frequently no sooner that they arrive than they are replaced by the next quippy social virus and pushed to the edges of our collective consciousness. To paraphrase Dorothy, memes come and go so quickly around here.
While I mourn each of the brief moments of joy a new meme brings differently, none was more solemn of a farewell than the one I bid to the absurdist elation brought to me by “I’m baby,” which was here and gone before I could ever truly appreciate it. Primarily exacerbated by the jumbled nuclear filing cabinet that is my brain, I spent most of the meme’s life trying to determine whether or not I actually was baby, rather than relishing in the simple joy of being able to shout it into the endless void of the internet anytime I didn’t feel like producing a coherent thought.
I’ve laid awake at night, inexplicably devastated by the thought that perhaps I would live the rest of my days bereft of the opportunity to tell somebody, anybody, that I too was baby. That was until I discovered this baby, that as it turns out, I absolutely, definitely am.
Knowing the internet, this will certainly become a meme of it’s own, but it really bears no further explication. I’m baby and the ice cream is, well, ice cream. Alternatively, I’m baby and the ice cream is also the leaked Lady Gaga track Stupid Love. Additionally, the ice cream is Bon Appétit YouTube videos, my first iced coffee of the morning, my weighted blanket after a long day, Cheer on Netflix, and the love and support of my friends.
The point is really that finally, at long last, I’m baby. And you’re baby too, if you want to be. The only question left to answer is, what’s your ice cream?