At the beach this past week, my older brother and I had a really in-depth conversation about zombies. I don’t even remember how it started, other than it’s my older brother and he’s always a good conversationalist.
Harrison was, as always, running circles around the couch and hollering some nonsense as most almost-four-year-olds like to do. It hit me that if any of us had a solid chance of defeating the zombies, it was my innocent little blonde offspring. So my brother and I (along with our good friends Gin and Tonic) decided to make a list on why Harry would be the likely hero of a zombie apocalypse.
Here’s why toddlers are the best bet to survive a zombie apocalypse:
Who has the best chance of surviving a zombie apocalypse? 1 of 6
Click through for why you should place your bets on your toddler!
They speak the language. 2 of 6
Ever hear a toddler learning to talk? "YARGH BLARG ZOMG ZOE ME BLARG ARG YARGH!" Pretty much the same language as zombies.
They can blend in after a day of no napping. 3 of 6
Ever see a toddler after a day or two of skipping a nap? We call the look my son gets the "thousand meter stare" where he just blankly looks outward, the bags under his eyes weighing him down. He also tends to stagger and bump into things even more when he's exhausted, just like a zombie.
They live off the souls of the living. 4 of 6
As in, their parents. Ever feel like your toddler is draining you of everything in your life? I know that exhausted feeling after a day with my kid where I collapse into the bed and simply pray for my brain to restart the next morning. I imagine that's how people attacked by zombies feel.
Their maturity level matches those that are actually prepared for a zombie apocalypse. 5 of 6
You know the dudes that have weapons and canned goods in their basement, watching The Walking Dead on repeat as they warn friends of the impending doom? Yeah, I think their maturity level is right in line with my son, who likes to talk about poop in public and pick his nose.
They can outlast the zombies. 6 of 6
Sometimes I look at my son and think "WILL HE EVER SLOW DOWN?!" and I don't mean the nostalgic moments where I remember rocking him asleep only three years ago. I'm talking when he is actually running circles around me for thirty minutes straight and I have no idea where he gets that energy from. The undead have nothing on the lasting power of my preschooler.