Don’t get me wrong. I like kids. They’re fun to mess with because they’re so goddamn impressionable. I meet my month’s quota for ridiculous lies just spending an hour with a young one. Oh, and they’re fu king cute as hell…sometimes…until they poop. Poop is gross.
Being 26 years old with a mother constantly pressuring me to “find a man and have lots of babies” doesn’t exactly help my emotional situation nor my re-established “Ain’t got no time for no man” stance. I like my bubble. I’ve grown accustomed to it. This may have to do with my being an only child. Because my parents worked a lot, I always had to find ways to entertain myself.
So when I log on to Facebook and see a bunch of my married friends enjoying a rainy day at the beach (seriously, it’s been raining everyday for over a week here), I first give the appropriate Ooohs and Daaws before lightly groaning to myself and then punching my uterus saying “Don’t you get any ideas!”
It’s always during the summer too. I am aware people have babies year-round, but the summer season are the three months where families everywhere take more pictures of their progeny and post them online for everyone to see. The sheer volume on my news feed alone is staggering. I can’t imagine what my mom’s is like; the majority of her friends are in the Philippines. Catholics pop out babies like it’s nobody’s business. It’s frightening.
Maybe one day I’ll have a kid of my own, just not any time soon. But if the day comes, this is what that kid is going to have to look forward to:
P.S. The news RIGHT NOW is talking about Kate Middleton’s pregnancy. UUUUGGHHHH!