Why I Won't Breed
Matt and I have chosen not to have kids. I chose that path for me a long time ago. Never, ever having kids. Never wanted kids. I take great pains to prevent from having kids. While white trash skanks were dropping out of my high school one by one after getting knocked up after a nice night of Heffenreffers and puking, I wasn't screwing around. When I decided I was going to screw around, I got on the pill. I've never been pregnant, which is good, because I don't like the idea of abortion.
The reaction I get when I tell some gal I don't want kids has been anywhere from "Oh, you say that now, someday you'll want kids" to outright horror. I am Satan. They look at me sideways and slowly slink away. I cannot be trusted, I am no real woman. I am utterly selfish and inhuman, a monster with tits.
How could I, a fertile field ripe for seed, not want at least 2 screaming brats? Look at all the pros! Special parking spaces for my minivan just like the handicapped! Entire sidewalks open for me like the red sea parts for Moses when I come bombing you down with my double-decker SUV all-wheel-drive monster-truck stroller! Even traffic screaches to a halt as I walk out in the middle of rush hour proudly pushing forth the stroller as if it was a magical divining rod that instantly stopped Mack Trucks and Hummers right in their tracks.
Everything would be built to sustain me and my ever growing brood, the world is always G-rated, always family-friendly. I can look forward to politicians kissing my ever widening arse as I work hard to see they turn this country into a sterilized faux brick Disney Land where nothing can offend or corrupt my precious little ankle biters. No Howard Stern. No comic book stores with adult comics in a hidden, dusty corner within range of a school. No fine art murals of a nude woman painted on a gallery somewhere in Texas.
Having a kid is a one-way ticket to sainthood. Everyone will clamor to coo and ogle my bundle of joy as I stand proud. I will be considered...at long last...matronly, caring and truly unselfish. No one can question my judgment...not at least until he's 7 and the other mommies on my street will chitter behind my back about his passe Nikes that obviously I got on sale at Marshall's.
I will not make the same mistakes my parents made when I was growing up. I will never hit my child, never scold my child, I will always show him unconditional love and understanding...even when he throws his creamed corn all over the restaurant table and draws in it with his fingers. When he runs over to that strange woman I don't know and hits her in the thigh, I will not apologize to the woman or reprimand him. He is fragile! I am a mother! Look at this cute Finding Nemo diaper I got him! See? Cute, cute, cute!
After reading this, it will probably appear to you that it's probably good I'm choosing not to have kids. I do appear a little monsterous, I suppose. But after seeing how fucked up our world is and how many frigging people are in it doing the fucking up, I choose not to indulge whatever need I have to breed. I also don't hate kids, I happen to think they're great. Especially in plum sauce.
There are plenty of cool kids and cool moms out there breeding smartly. Really, the kids of today are our hopes for tomorrow. How nice of us to leave them a gaping sore of a world to clean up.
I'll be happy to park at the back of the lot and you can have the whole damn sidewalk...just leave the titty bars alone. Your husband needs at least one place he can escape to.
The reaction I get when I tell some gal I don't want kids has been anywhere from "Oh, you say that now, someday you'll want kids" to outright horror. I am Satan. They look at me sideways and slowly slink away. I cannot be trusted, I am no real woman. I am utterly selfish and inhuman, a monster with tits.
How could I, a fertile field ripe for seed, not want at least 2 screaming brats? Look at all the pros! Special parking spaces for my minivan just like the handicapped! Entire sidewalks open for me like the red sea parts for Moses when I come bombing you down with my double-decker SUV all-wheel-drive monster-truck stroller! Even traffic screaches to a halt as I walk out in the middle of rush hour proudly pushing forth the stroller as if it was a magical divining rod that instantly stopped Mack Trucks and Hummers right in their tracks.
Everything would be built to sustain me and my ever growing brood, the world is always G-rated, always family-friendly. I can look forward to politicians kissing my ever widening arse as I work hard to see they turn this country into a sterilized faux brick Disney Land where nothing can offend or corrupt my precious little ankle biters. No Howard Stern. No comic book stores with adult comics in a hidden, dusty corner within range of a school. No fine art murals of a nude woman painted on a gallery somewhere in Texas.
Having a kid is a one-way ticket to sainthood. Everyone will clamor to coo and ogle my bundle of joy as I stand proud. I will be considered...at long last...matronly, caring and truly unselfish. No one can question my judgment...not at least until he's 7 and the other mommies on my street will chitter behind my back about his passe Nikes that obviously I got on sale at Marshall's.
I will not make the same mistakes my parents made when I was growing up. I will never hit my child, never scold my child, I will always show him unconditional love and understanding...even when he throws his creamed corn all over the restaurant table and draws in it with his fingers. When he runs over to that strange woman I don't know and hits her in the thigh, I will not apologize to the woman or reprimand him. He is fragile! I am a mother! Look at this cute Finding Nemo diaper I got him! See? Cute, cute, cute!
After reading this, it will probably appear to you that it's probably good I'm choosing not to have kids. I do appear a little monsterous, I suppose. But after seeing how fucked up our world is and how many frigging people are in it doing the fucking up, I choose not to indulge whatever need I have to breed. I also don't hate kids, I happen to think they're great. Especially in plum sauce.
There are plenty of cool kids and cool moms out there breeding smartly. Really, the kids of today are our hopes for tomorrow. How nice of us to leave them a gaping sore of a world to clean up.
I'll be happy to park at the back of the lot and you can have the whole damn sidewalk...just leave the titty bars alone. Your husband needs at least one place he can escape to.
posted by Bostonbootgirl at 4:16 PM
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