218. Hating Kids (Secretly)

Ask a betch what she thinks about kids and she will fake smile and say some shit like “Omigod I loooooove them!” Ask her what she really thinks about kids and she will shadily look around and admit the truth: kids are fucking awful. Betches don't like kids because they are loud and annoying and if you touch them you will probably get pink eye. But we must hide our dislike for these tiny, sticky people because everyone knows that a pro doesn't want to wife up a girl who brags about not wanting to reproduce. That being said, it's time for some real talk.

Infants and toddlers

Infants are the worst because they are forced upon you like sausage at Bob Evans. As soon as a baby plops out of a family member/friend/coworker/distant acquaintance, you are expected to suddenly give a shit about someone other than yourself. Not likely. Even worse, when you meet this little party foul, someone will insist that you hold it, and it's like: um fuck off?  The best thing to say is something like “Oh no I can't, I'll never want to give her back!” or “::cough cough:: I'm sick. I wouldn't want your weak immune system-ed money drain to come down with something.” Uh huh.

Things that you should say when confronted with an infant:

– Ohmigod he's perfeeeccccct
– She is so gorg, look at those eyes! 
– Little heartbreaker! 

Things that you are thinking but should not say:

– Siri, call NASA, we've discovered alien life. 
– Shit, I always knew Theresa got a nose job, this settles it.
– I'm too drunk for this.

If an infant is crying/shrieking, we are always thinking the same thing: “put that thing in the car and lock the doors.  Windows cracked though, windows cracked.”  The one good thing about babies is that when quiet, they're easy to ignore.  “You do you boo” – me, to my 1 year old niece as she rolls down the hallway out of sight. 

We hear that when you actually have a baby your hormones get so whacked that you become like, addicted to it. We hope that this is true, because if I ever feel about my baby the way I feel about my Klonopin prescription, I will be a fantastic mom. 

Children ages 4-12 (or like, whenever they start taking Ritalin)

Also terrible. Like, no I don't want to listen to you explain what each and every character on Adventuretime does and is, I want to smoke a blunt and fucking watch it in silence. They are all compulsive liars:  “Jayden, when you tell me that you built your entire house and all of the furniture inside of it, you sound ridic. Get better at lying.” They also get weirdly violent and occasionally psychotic just because they're bored. Like, no you cannot put 64 rubber bands on my Tibetan Spaniel's tail until it loses circulation, Beatrice, that's really fucked up that you want to do that.

It used to be that the only way to get a kid to shut up was to sit them in front of the TV like our moms did for us. Kids TV shows now provide zero relief. Dora is the loudest child ON EARTH and her friends run around screaming obvious and repetitive things like ” I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map!”  I GET IT, YOU'RE THE MAP.  I mean, Lord.

Your best option if saddled with someone else's spawn is to send them on bizarre and impossible tasks. Like, at my cousin's wedding I was asked to watch a 7 and 9 year old for a few hours, so I sent them off to find the indoor pool that I knew the hotel didn't have. Three hours later, hotel staff informed their parents that they found them sleeping beside the vending machines and I never had to babysit again. Also, if ever caught in a babysitting situation with a kid who is so fucking full of themselves that they won't take off their goddamn shoes even though I've been patiently waiting to take you home to your permanent (TG) caregivers, the best method is to just tell a kid you're going to time them and suddenly they think they're an Olympic fucking competitor. Kids, they're just like us. Only way fucking dumber. 

Over the years, people who really should mind their own business like nice girls and your parents will ask about your own child-rearing plans. 

Them: “What do you think you'll name it?”
You: “Whoops?”

Eventually, we are sure that we will have kids of our own, and probably do embarrassing shit like carry a Baby Bjorn and get a big dog.  But until then, keep your little miracle out of my news feed and out of my face, kk?


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