I Shouldn't Have Kids

I got a flyer in the mail the other day that tried comparing taking care of a child to getting an oil change.   It had a picture of  some strange baby, crawling or rolling around on its back, I can't remember, looking up pathetically with the wording "Would you forget to change me?" placated across the bottom.

Would I ever forget to change a baby? I wish I could. They can scream and cry to remind you that they stink. They are also protected by laws and have mothers that will tell you that's its "your turn". Would I be inclined to ignore a baby?

Yes.

 Hell yes.

I'm way more likely to want to take care of my car, not that I do a good job of it, rather than tend to a baby. Why? My car serves a function. It allows me to drive places and pay for insurance that I 'll never use. It keeps the rain away and lets me sit in traffic.  It's not like some lazy, vomiting, diaper soiling baby.

Babies and children are leisure-time vampires and I want nothing to do with them.

This isn't because I CAN'T take care of living things. It's because I choose not. I once had a pet turtle as a kid but realized it wasn't going to become a talking ninja,  got bored with it and dumped it on my sister.

In short bursts I'm able to take care of living things. I've baby sat my sister's dog several times and it's still alive.

I was even a summer camp counselor once and as far as I know, all my kids lived. It wasn't a sleep over camp though, just a day camp were their parents would come and rescue them pick the kids up at the end of the day. Fortunately for the kids and myself, my group was composed of a bunch of nine year old boys, fully capable of seeking out and asking for any food or assistance that I was too negligent to provide for them.

I do like kids...when they're not screaming or asking for food. They're cool when they're smiling and laughing but I shut down as soon as they start grabbing at things or pleading to be let out of strangleholds. After that I just want to knock over their stroller, pacify them or cram them in a microwave. (Calm down. I wouldn't turn it on.)



My mom tried to convince me to keep a plant in my apartment. I clearly let her know that the plant would be dead in a week. Unless it was a cactus. Then it would be dead in three weeks.