As usual I'm on the toilet. No, I do not feel like this is oversharing, and yes, I will blog while releasing my turd children into the world again. Speaking of Children, I've gone from actively hating them to thinking that some of them are actually cute. I think that this is as a result of some post 25 hormonal changes. My theory is that if you turn 25 without releasing your progeny upon the world, your body begins protesting your new age wisdom that says the following things.
- Don't have children that you cannot afford.
- Don't have a child and give it to your parents to raise.
- Having a 20 year old when you're 33 is bad because at 33 you're not equipped to deal with twenty something angst which is far worse than the teenage blues.
- You see a baby, all big eyed and scary.
- If it looks at you you'll want to carry it.
- Once you carry it you'll start to smell it.
- Once you smell it, you'll really start to carry it. You may also touch its face, and coo.
- If it vomits you'll say aww.
- If it shits you'll sigh and praise the freedoms of youth.
- You'll start scanning the room for the most viable baby making partner you can find and you'll seriously think about your singledom.
- You'll go straight to your phone and start using that number that you got 5 months ago but didn't use because the meet cute wasn't meet cute enough.
This is definitely one of the problems with being me. I started this one thinking that I was going to write about an engagement I went to two weeks ago, but it's turned into a discussion about babies. I want a baby. A spicy brown baby. I won't mind a milky baby, or a piglet pink baby either. In fact if I'm to adopt a baby, I'll be happier with the latter. That way I'll never have to really explain where it came from.
ps. Babies are an it aren't they?