The Whyfor and The Whatnot

This morning I was in the car with my beloved F*ckwit, dropping his best friend’s daughter off at creche. Now I have always wondered whether I want children or not and every time I see a rugrat I ponder the fact more. Each time I reach the conclusion that I do not want a mini-me running around.

Why do people feel the need to procreate? Is it a selfish need to give someone else what you never had? To mould them into what you never got to be? To lavish all possible attention on a one certain somebody?

Why on earth?

As I watched from my vantage point in the car a smartly dressed women got out of her car and led her boy by the hand. Said boy was crying his pissy eyes out because “I don’t wanna!”. Wtf? “I said so” doesn’t seem to work on the children of today. Best friend came walking back to the car and I thought to myself, look at what an upheaval having a child is. You have to segregate an hour (at the very least) to get them on their merry little ways. Going on holiday is an almost impossible task because you need a whole trailer for one child's crap. Wait, nevermind a holiday, what about a nice romantic evening out with your beloved? Babysitter alert!! Oh oh, even better. Sex! "No no, the children might wake up." Why? Why on God’s green earth??

Hypothetically speaking of course, in the unfortunate event that I spawn a meat ball.

I have a lot of reasons why I have no maternal instinct whatsoever. Reason numero uno is that I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am going to make the most horrible and inadequate mother ever. Secondly, children have a distinct dislike in me, as do i in them. Third point? Why one earth would I want to put myself through 9 months of being ill just to suffer an unknown amount and intensity of pain? All of this for what? A ruined body? Money that could have been otherwise spent now being used to feed and clothe a pile of meat? Ok fine, I realise that once you have a brat you love it and blah blah but still. I really don’t see the need for it, really I don’t.

I have thought long and hard over the years. At one stage I even thought of having one daughter. Until my mind fucked out on me and I realised I blame my mother. This, dear reader(s), I do not want. Do I want my daughter, who I have spent years and years trying to mould into something resembling an acceptable citizen to turn around one day and say “You Bitch! It’s all your fault!”?

I don’t think so. I saddens me to no end, being this defective. Society decrees that “Ye Shall Procreate and Become Many a Mouth to Feed”. So I don’t fit in, yet again.