Fucked up bitches…..

Got thinking today after chatting with a friend about how procreation is bullocks, and only those who have gone through a pre-approval process, complete with credit check, mental evaluation and parenting classes, should be allowed to give birth.

Of course, no one in their right mind would pass, as no one in their right mind would actually conceive if they took to time to really think about what spawning a small, squealing, pooping infant entails, but that doesn’t seem to stop anyone…

Not that I am against children, having children, or using children in a recipe. On the contrary, they’re pretty goddamned cool, not to mention scary as they have brains that grow, evolve and eventually ask for the car keys, unlike their furry four-legged counterparts.

It’s just that I can’t help but look around me at those I know who have them, and think that many of them are the very people who probably should have pulled out.

Not that some of them are not fine parents, and not that it really matters once junior is born, s/he’s here, sit back, keep your hands inside the moving vehicle at all times and enjoy the ride. But so many people have kids for the wrong reason…

We’re all guilty, at one point or another, for using our bodies to get what we want, to use them and what we can do with them for leverage, collateral or currency. Anyone who pretends otherwise is lying.

But, when it comes to the ultimate in what, for many people, is a need to control the other person, what about the kid?

No relationship has ever, in the history of the world, been saved by having a child.

No emptiness caused by lack of introspection has ever been filled by giving birth.

And what do you do when the reality strikes you square in the face? Even if you can control the other person and make them jump when you say jump, squirm, cry and come running back to you when you demand it, for all eternity like the lopsided, fucked up and abusive relationship it’s always been, at the end of the day there’s someone counting on you to be there for them, take care of them, nurture and guide them… and if you didn’t go into it for the right reasons in the first place, in how many ways is that innocent bystander getting gypped?

Trust me, I speak from experience on this.

And this is why, as I grow closer and closer to hip-breaking metamusil-drinking uber-spinster age, no matter how much I might eventually regret getting to my deathbed with no one to inherit my stuffed pig collection, I will never regret dragging another human being into this world simply to tie someone else to me.

Although, it would be nice to have someone to bequeath my ugly teapot collection to….

Any takers?!