I Love Kids….I Just Can’t Finish a Whole One By Myself

I was talking to a co-worker a few years ago.  She was telling me how her nephew got married and he and his wife didn’t want children.  I said that it seemed like more and more people are deciding not to have kids.

“Yeah but it was the way my nephew’s wife said it, like kids are horrible.”

Probably because kids are horrible.  Kids can be little assholes.  Little truth-telling assholes.

I can’t speak for everyone else who doesn’t want kids but when people ask me “Do you want kids?” my face goes all sour and I nearly scream “Oh fuck no!”

It’s not that I don’t like kids.  A lot of kids are scary smart and use their intuition before being told to bury it.  I’m still waiting for my 7 year old niece to tell me what she wants to be when she grows up so I can get some career advice.  I say “Oh fuck no!” because the idea of me as a parent is insane.  It’s just nuts.  My kids would either live in a bubble because I don’t want them to get Ebola when they share boogers with other people or I’d be a neglectful parent: “You want a snack?  There’s half a jar of green olives and some iced coffee in the fridge.”

Or I’d lock them in a closet because I want to read for ten minutes uninterrupted.  I’m not a monster.  I’d give them half a jar of green olives and some iced coffee and a portable DVD player so they can watch Despicable Me for the 80th time.

I don’t want children because I think there are too many on this planet already.  I think the planet’s screwed anyways.

The real reason I don’t want kids?  Shit’s going to get serious for a few minutes.  I don’t want kids because I really don’t want another me running around out there.  I may be funny and clown around 98% of the time but I don’t want them to go through what I’ve gone through the last 20 years.  It doesn’t matter how much help is out there for depression: medications, therapy, exercise.  When you have major depression you are alone with it, especially when you can’t get to sleep without winding up your brain in black rope and you’ve got to pretend that you’re just fine when all you want to do is sit in your car and scream.  I don’t want my kid to go through each day wondering “Is this all there is?  Will it be like this for another 40 years?”

Plus kids are always wanting something, food, blankets, new sneakers, some kind of faith in a world after this life.  I know what I’ll tell them:

Go drink everything under the kitchen sink and then go play on the freeway.

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About jkhughes2

I'm fat and I hate my job. Well kinda. Kinda on both of those. I love to read and work in a library where they don't let me read. But as long as I get to be around books I'm happy. I once wanted to be a writer and then realized that I'm too lazy to write a book but not too lazy to write a blog. And blogging is like keeping a journal except my posts are the equivalent of verbal diarrhea. And oh yeah. I have really low self-esteem. I have a dog named Max but I call him Maxhole. He's the first dog I've ever had. I find his daily life way more interesting than mine or most people I know. That's about it. I hate politics and computer books. I secretly wish I was Doctor Who but can't remember if that's "was" or "were." Now that's it.
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4 Responses to I Love Kids….I Just Can’t Finish a Whole One By Myself

  1. Sunflower says:

    Effing hilarious.

  2. Morguie says:

    You are so funny. And I think you’d be a cool mom in spite of yourself. I suffer the ravages of the black rope and I hate it. But the black rope came way after my kids arrived. Way after. You make me laugh at myself. I used to actually say stuff like you write it. People looked at me like I needed a permanent room at the Rubber Ranch Royale. So then I shut up. I only speak amongst myselves, now.

    • jkhughes2 says:

      Rubber Ranch Royale! LOVE IT!
      Thanks for saying I’d be a cool mom. I make a great aunt. I give my niece and nephew sugar, teach them some choice swear words and then send them home. I probably say stuff aloud that should be inside thoughts only.
      P.S. I love your blog.

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