Believe it or not, not every woman on the planet yearns to procreate. I have never been one of those girls that dreamed of having a baby. Don’t get me wrong, I like kids. Sometimes. But therein lays the problem. After a significant chunk of time has elapsed, kids just get on my last damn nerve and I have to give them back to their rightful owners before I hurt them. My time limit is usually about 8 hours. Sometimes less, sometimes more, but that’s about average. So when people say to me, “You’re so great with kids, why don’t you have any of your own?” it just rubs me the wrong way. I am forced to say, “I don’t want them.” And this evokes a shocked reaction that makes me appear to be a selfish tool. So here it is, for the last time. I don’t want kids, and here’s why:
1. I have issues with clutter. When there’s a lot of stuff lying around, I feel like I can’t breathe. Sometimes when I go into the homes of friends with small children I have to force myself to not act like a neurotic lunatic. The amount of colorful plastic crap covering the floor and every surface in the house is so uncomfortable to me, I often find myself making organized piles without even realizing it. I am aware that it’s offensive but I honestly don’t even realize I’m doing it. I’ve heard the question, “Are you cleaning my house?” more than once and I can only uncomfortably answer with, “Apparently. Sorry about that.”
2. I secretly have bad, non-maternal thoughts about people’s kids. A person that I hardly know, but apparently thinks we’re BFF’s showed me a picture of her toddler in a store recently. “Isn’t she just precious?” To which I answered, “The precious-est.” But what I was really thinking was, “It must be really hard to love a kid that ugly. Seriously, that’s just side-show ugly. Was her daddy an oompa-loompa? ”
3. I am selfish. I know that the first time I have to stay home when I really want to go out because I have a kid, I’m going to resent having it. I am also at the age when I don’t recover from going out as quickly as I used to. It’s all well and good to get a sitter for the night, but what about the next day when I feel like crap, but I have to be “mommy”? I am even more selfish when I’m forced to reside in a dehydrated shriveled up pile of toxic waste shell of a body. In this condition it would not seem unreasonable for me to lock a kid in their room with a box of Cheerio’s and a bowl of water.
4. My gene pool. The only positive things I can think of that I could pass onto a child are a high IQ and good teeth. This would be fantastic if it weren’t coupled with a slew of other obstacles that are lurking around in there, like alcoholism, obesity, crippling depression, poor eyesight and diabetes, just off the top of my head. These things are not the legacy I want to leave to future generations and I certainly don’t want to curse a child with them.
5. I have to work at it to be “kid friendly.” Maybe this is why kids exhaust me after a day or so. The constant censoring of my language is tiring. What’s worse is that I find a toddler swearing absolutely hilarious. Especially if it’s unprovoked and the swear word is used properly. I have learned that no matter how much you try to hide it, kids can just sense when you are amused by something. This will cause them to do whatever the offensive behavior is over and over and will not hesitate to do it in public.
So the point is, I like this arrangement. Bring me your children when I ask for them so I can play with them and teach them cool stuff, then come get them right before their child-like behavior starts getting on my nerves. And stop asking, because no matter how unbelievable you may think it is, no, I don’t want any of my own.
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