The other day, I was having a chat with a friend and he is the kind of person who’s adamant about not bringing a child into this world because of the commitment and responsibilities that involves it (notice how I refer to children as it lol).
And I was always a great supporter of this notion too. I talked about it before in other posts but my main beef about having children is the worry that it might inherit my condition, and no way do I want to feel guilty for the rest of my life.
You can call me selfish or whatever names you fancy, but really, that’s not my goal in life and you should respect that and not judge me because I refuse to concede to societal norms.
So back to my friend. He was telling me about his other friend and he suddenly said how nice it would be to see a mini version of him running around, and he wondered who his hypothetical child (he’s single) would take after.
Wow. That stunned me for a moment. He has never, and I mean NEVER showed any inclination towards children (at least in front of me), and suddenly he becomes wistful? Is it an age thing or some too-bad-I-won’t-be-able-to-carry-on-my-family-name sort of thing?! I mean, this is the very same person who said “Can we go now?” when I happened to bump into a friend alone with his two young daughters and had to leave them for a while, so I naturally stayed to keep an eye on them because they’re really young and were near an escalator. In fact, when he passed that comment, I thought in my mind that that’s such a callous and cold thing to say. Wow.
But that made me think after we put down the phone. What would a mini half version of me be like? Would it be an adorable little thing or would it be like the spawn of the devil back to take revenge because I was difficult as a child as well and now haha I’m going to get a taste of my own medicine?
And that thought freaked me out so much. On one hand, it seems to be quite a nice idea, but on the other hand…. Maybe not. I don’t want to be responsible for any thing. I seriously don’t even like them that much. I think I’d stick to cooing at other people’s children.
And oh, by the way, that friend I’m referring to is X. And no, my ovaries did not explode as much as I like him. So that can mean only two things. One, I’m really not that into him anymore. Two, I really really don’t want to give life to anything. So there.