I want babies. Correction: baby. Singular. Probably sooner rather than later. Problem is, Tyler wants to wait soooommmmeee moreeeeee- you know, ‘to get financially ready” yadda yadda yadda, and I kinda want to keep drinking, so yeah that’ll probably make it a while. But just because I want one of those little things of my own, doesn’t mean I’m goo goo gaa gaa over the bajilliionty of them I see on Facebook, Instagram, and in real life.
No, I don’t want to hold your baby. No, I don’t want to hang out with you and your baby. Because that’s just not me. I can’t get into that. (I know what all you moms are saying: “Oooooh but it’ll all change once you have a kid. Trust me.” PFFFF I know that. But until then, I will stay AWAY.)
I mean, I’m probably just not ready for it, anyways. Some of my reactions aren’t entirely favorable around the youngins.
When I hear babies screaming in close proximity:
When I see someone changing a poop explosion as I walk into a public restroom:
When I have to wait 49 minutes for the lady with the baby in front of me TO GET OUT OF THE WAY:
When people want to show me pictures of their babies:
When people are gushing over babies, I’m all:
When Tyler and I watch a movie with Chris Hemsworth, Charlie Hunnam, or Ben Affleck:
Whoops. How did that slip in there.
When I see a kid throwing a bitch fit:
Those are rare, since babies tend to just be naturally cute. Everything about them is miniature. But there are a select few where it’s like HOT DAMN.
When people ask if Tyler and I are going to have kids:
When people are stuck at home wiping up spit and shit and having a fit, I’m over here all childless and like:
When I think about childbirth:
And when I realize that I get to mother one of those brats one day:
All this baby talk makes me want a beer…