There Goes Your Hopes and Dreams!
Sweet Moses, this topic is frightening! For those who have yet to read my interesting perspective on all that life has to offer, I apologize in advance. And for the five of you loyal readers ( Mom, big ups to you!) who hang on my every sentence for entertainment…and to feel better about you, once again…you’re welcome. I’m sort of like watching Intervention. At the end of it, you’re a bit confused, worried, turned on…but ultimately grateful that you lead a completely different life, and that’s why I’m here, to bring horror to the masses.
Recently, I’ve become more and more entwined with the community, which is great, since my goal is to ultimately do something positive for children, women in distress and shelter animals. Children and I tend to get along famously, as I’d rather spend my days sipping Juicy Juice, watching SpongeBob SquarePants and running around the house pants-less.
Children are awesome. Their honesty, their integrity, and their ability to be happy with life’s simplest pleasures. I’ve had a glass of wine, so if this post goes sappy, blame the silly juice.
My thoughts on children, as of September 2011:
So here’s the thing.
Most of you who know me, know how I feel about giving birth as I did a wholllle portion of my stand-up comedy act on it and I’m not particularly shy about saying the following: I’d love kids, I just don’t want to birth them.
Previously, I’ve said the following things have to happen prior to me agreeing to have kids:
1. Caging children must become legal, so like a dog, if I get frustrated with little Yikes Jr. I can cage it until it learns not to pee in the house.
2. Men must be able to have uterine transplants. Seriously, they should be able to have children already…it’s 2011.
3. They would have to be able to put me to sleep, take the baby out, perform liposuction and wake me up when everything is over, with my tang tang intact.
4. The only alternative to three, would be having your egg removed, mixed with your partners, it’s put into a pod that you check on and feed…kind of like sea monkeys…and eventually, the baby grows and wakes up at nine months cuter than hell and ready for you. Kind of like…iRobot meets Identity Report…meets the Pillsbury Dough Boy (he rises in time…in time…ON HIS OWN).
It’s a wonder I’m not married with kids yet, no?
Well…here’s the thing. Most of that nonsense above, while completely ignorant, stems from me assuming the right person will make me feel differently. My mother, who is probably gagging as she reads this, insists that as we get older…there is an instinct that rises.
So what’s been happening? There are children…everywhere. Seriously, criminally adorable children. Slowly but surely, I don’t feel like that anymore. I find myself looking at these families, envious that someone has made them feel like blowing their pelvis and tang tang region out was totally worth it.
Crap.
Furthermore, people from high school…from college…from my LIFE are having children at such a rapid rate it’s bananas. Some of them, I don’t even know they’re pregnant, then today I see TWO of them have, “Little Isaac turns one month today!” whaaaaa….t?
AT LEAST have the courtesy to throw us a baby bump pic here and then so we’re not shocked! ( And this is what technology has done to us!)
I’m 26. I’m in no way, shape, or form behind on the times. I’ve never been married, because I want to do it right…one time, and forever. Optimistic? Sure, sure, sure. Not in a rush (absolutely no man believes this)!
So for now I’ll continue sipping my Juicy Juice and roaming the house pants-less, while watching SpongeBob SquarePants and come to grips with the epidemic that will most likely grow as I continue to!
I Give It A Yikes! 