Once upon a time…long, long ago…I wanted children.
Like really, really bad.
And if I would have had a child when I was seeing doctors, giving blood, taking all kinds of pills…that kid would be about 10 now.
(I mean, really. Me with a 10 year old.)
(It’d be the hippest kid in class. Hells yeah.)
Now I don’t want any.
I just don’t.
Love’em…but no thanks.
Plus, I’m too old. Maybe you aren’t and that’s all fine…but I am. Way, way too old.
No love of gummy bears.
(I have two sweet little sugar-faces I call nieces. That’s more than enough. MORE.)
If I had a kid, here’s what tonight would look like:
First…mom would call to check on him.
(Yes, “him.” Cause girls can be so fru-fruey and sappy. And this is my make-believe, so it’s a boy.)
Mom: Well, hi my little man! How was your day?
Him: Way cool. It didn’t suck.
Mom: Now just because your mother constantly uses that word, you shouldn’t talk like that. What’s she feeding you tonight?
Mom: Huh? Pringles? Surely that’s not ALL. What else?
Him: No. Just Pringles.
Mom: Well, what’d you have for lunch?
Him: Nae Nae, she made me eat sushi. She MADE me eat it.
(He’d secretly love it.)
(And yes. Nae Nae. The sound a horse makes.)
(Totally hip. She has a nose ring. See?)
Mom: Let me talk to your mother.
He’d give me a high-five and a thumbs up as he quietly snickered while handing the phone over.
Then she’d go into this whole ordeal about how I should really cook more and she’d end up bringing him over some shrimp gumbo left over from Christmas (because it’s always better 2-3 days later) all the while never catching on to the fact we both had it planned and scripted out just so we could get a free meal delivery of shrimp gumbo.
I mean, we’d practice for at least 30 minutes with different scenarios depending on the different possible paths that conversation could go.
It ain’t easy having a kid. I get that.
(And they say I’M not the smart sister.)
He’d be the perfect little con-artist.
Since I don’t have a kid, I’ll just do what I do best for dinner:
Less clean up than a full-fledged meal.
(Full-fledged. Who even says that anymore??)
I’d do more, but I don’t have a kid to do the dishes.