I'M, or should I say WE are not having kids. Initially, (and I'm talking way back, when I was a teen), I blamed it on the messiness & pain of the whole birth thing. I was amazed to discover the fact that sometimes the doc had to slit open your vagina with a razor blade in order for the baby to plop out easier. Oh my God, are you kidding me? But, .......wait for it..........
THAT WAS NOT THE WORST PART!!!! Huh? The real pain were those darn contractions. What the fuck? (I have a mouth like a truck stop hooker-get used to it..)
What was I saying? Oh yeah, no kids for us.
It's not the pain thing anymore, it's the responsibility aspect. Plus I'm selfish.
Earl & I are so in love with each other & our Cats, it seems like a rugrat would ruin it. Yeah, that' right I said it and I'll probably say it again!
Imagine if I actually squeezed one out, only to discover it was allergic to animals? I'd have to try sell (or give away) the thing on Craigslist. What a hassle. I hate strangers coming to my house to check shit out.
"It's a baby for Chrissakes, obviously, I told you it's sneezing because of the cats!! Are you taking it or what? Alright, I'll throw in the mobile over that cribby thing, do we have deal?"
I'm fucking serious.
BTW.... I'm trying to organize my thoughts regarding this Octomom bitch. Just give me some time.