Castor Oil...sickeningly good

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Parenthood

I love being a parent, for real. Being able to have a real growing interaction with my older daughter as she gets up there towards teenagerdom and watching my younger daughter develop and learn to talk and act like a lunatic is awesome. It's simply great, the greatest, and greater than anything else that I do. I love my kids more than life itself and will kill anyone or anything that threatens their wellbeing.

That being said......

This article here at the linky linky from the Washington Post gave me the fucking creeps. It's not that it's new to me, I see these goddamn freaks all the time. They're insane with the level of perverse attachment they have to the pieces of veal they're raising. It's like Stepford only the kids are stuck with the robots instead of the husbands. All the time I get the glares from them when out and about with my wee ones, glassy eyed stares of hatred from fat little eyes pushed back in fat little faces from parents who think if you don't look like the cast of Roseanne and have the interests that dovetail perfectly with the Sunday flyer for Wal-Mart you must not really love your children.


If you think that by reading between the lines I'm saying that I don't care what my kids do or how they behave you couldn't be further from the truth. It's not people like me that have insane little shitheads running through TGI Friday's like the gang after Piggy in Lord of the Flies, no way. Those types of little freaks belong to bigger freaks who think little Johnny Precious can do no wrong in any way shape or form and he's so damn special that no one really minds that he just knocked over their dinner. This whole super-parent attitude leads to a total lack of meaningful parenting. I'm sure it will be a shock to the uber-rents when their kids graduate go away to college and put Moms and Dads at about #48 on their priority list behind letting an auto mechanic do body shots off of them at happy hour and having lots of unprotected sex but hey, that's nature at work. If you're not ready for it I'm sure it's a bitch but by getting ready for it in the first place you just might avoid it or at least the worst parts of it. Y'see if you let your kids live a life of their own within the boundaries of what you deem to be acceptable so they can figure out who they are and just be that way they probably won't feel the need to prove their individuality to you later on with tattoos on the asscrack, STD's and calls from a jail in Cancun. You don't want to be one of these parents that ends up living like that do you? No, I didn't think so. Nor do you want to let anyone you love become one because you'll be stuck talking to them on the phone all the time when things go to shit and that's a fate worse than death!!

Here are some warning signs that someone you think is an otherwise rational human being, (it could be you!) is going to be a maniacal Stalin like parent. Take preemptive action if you can, if you can't move and change your name, (unless it's you that you see in here, in that case just tighten up and don't make me hate you.)

1 - Before getting pregnant they say "we're trying to get pregnant". Women get pregnant, men assist in the process by working for about 90 seconds, grunting and then passing out. "We" CANNOT get pregnant. She can. Post-coitus dude is pretty much along for the ride and abuse until it's time to head to the hospital at zero hour. This whole "WE" concept of all things equal in a parenting relationship is dumb, especially at the very beginning squishy icky part. It's not equal either in effort or responsibility towards the baby before the baby is born, I'm sorry. If it was supposed to be we'd all be like earthworms and be able to fuck ourselves to procreate.

2 - While pregnant the happy couple has a lockstep plan for exactly how they're going to raise the kid and are more than happy to tell you (presuming you already have a kid) how great they're going to be at it, (the insinuation being that they'll be much better at child rearing than your dumb ass is). These people are short-sighted idiots and I almost laugh when I see them a year or so later with their wretched bratty children covered with snot and puke and the whole family looking like the homeless guy from "In Living Color" I said almost. While truly funny my deep sense of disdain perversely mixed with satisfaction overrides the humor switch and instead of laughing I smirk contentedly at this type of situation.

3 - When having had the baby the implication given to the world is that taking care of the infant is the most monumental task ever pursued by mankind and everyone should be VERY careful how to approach this incredibly blessed yet burdened couple. A note to those of you without babies; they're really not that hard. They sleep a lot, they're cute, they crap a couple times a day and then they sleep some more. People that can't handle that kind of burden are probably as equally inept at handling much of anything including the future notion that their kids will give more of a shit about their scooter than their parents and are probably of average intelligence and ability at the very best.

4 - After having a baby the parents morph into weird pudgy sexless beings wholly without form or physical definition and every sentence they utter from their fat fucking mouths is about their kid or how tired they are. These people have stopped living as individuals and have given into the idea that their purpose in life is to entertain the every whim of someone who takes off their diaper and rubs poo on the walls when given the opportunity and would be more than happy to chug a liter of Dran-O if left unattended. People like these are, again, idiots and it would be great if you could just avoid them but they pretty much run the schools where your (hopefully) normalized kid is trying to get an education so you have to get ready to engage and run interference for your tykes.

So watch yourself if you're going to have kids. Have them, love them, enjoy them revel in them but for the love of Christ don't be defined by them. They eat dog food, why would you let them be the boss? It's your job to teach them how to survive and most importantly survive without you. Just get your shit together and leave them alone a little bit so they can figure this life thing out. They'll love you for it later and with a bit of freedom now maybe when they finally leave the nest they won't be so fascinated by Al the tow truck driver who thinks stripping is a HAWT job for his old lady.

At least they'll have a chance.











1 Comments:

  • Don't tell me how to raise my kids motherfucker. But still call me.

    By Blogger doctorjones, at 4:57 PM  

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