You people make my ovaries twitch

**Disclaimer: If you have children, please take no offense at this post.**

I have zero maternal instinct — I believe I hocked it on eBay at some point. My biological clock has NEVER ticked, much less tocked. Even when I was a kid, I didn’t like kid stuff. Cutesy kid shows made me dry heave — screw Pee-Wee, I’d take Macgyver or Knight Rider any day.

My childhood friends couldn’t wait to get married and become babymakers. Me not so much. Four years spent in a Baptist college surrounded by chickys whose main goal in life was to marry a youth pastor and pop out a church choir didn’t help this sentiment. It’s not that I just don’t want to have the little darlings, I actively dislike children. They make my whole reproduction system twitch.

I’ve made some exceptions for my friends’ kids. Thankfully not many of my friends have spawned, so I don’t have to play Auntie Pithy too much. I actually babysat one child and there was no bloodshed. I’ve shopped at Toys ‘R Us before, but usually had to call the mom of the child I was shopping for to talk me through the experience.  But that’s it. I don’t smile and wave to little kids at the mall, I don’t ooh and ahh when I see babies, and I definitely don’t think it’s “so sweet” when co-workers bring their little preciouses into work.

Last night, I was actively reminded of how much I dislike kiddies. Apparently my landlords were babysitting last night.  Post-Dharma and Greg watching, I stretched out on my bed, fuzzbutt at my side and Shopaholic & Baby in hand.

Not halfway through the first chapter and the screeching of demon spawn outside began. I believe they were summoning the evil spirits or perhaps Satan himself, under the guise of “playing.” I tried to block them out but once I heard the landlords’ cat hissing and yowling outside my window, I had had enough. Their “playing” with the cat was starting to freak my cat out.

I threw on my fluffy teal bathrobe and stomped outside. And there they were…three demon spawns from the innermost circle of hell, frozen in place by the sight of me.  I verified that they were around with permission of my landlords and then told them to leave the cat alone. All 3 boys were staring at me,  slack-jawed and unblinking.  Maybe it was the blue-black hair that scared them.

Unfortunately, they regained the ability to move and speak. The three little hellions left the cat alone, but then decided to play inside. And by “play” I mean run wind sprints back and forth across the squeaky, hardwood floors above me.  At 10 p.m. Since when are kids allowed to stay up that late?? When I was that age, I never saw 10 p.m. I was lucky to sneak in any fun past 9.

After 30 minutes of Olympic training, the Demon Spawn switched it up a bit and started practicing for their upcoming Riverdance auditions.  30 more minutes of Erin Go Bragh-ing and Demon Spawn calmed down. Finally! My ovaries have not twitched like that since Toys ‘R Us.

Since it was getting late, I decided to go nighty-night. As I settled in my bed, fuzzbutt by my side, the unmistakable sound of a late-night cocktail hour me drifted down from the air vents. I could hear freakin’ everything…clink of ice in glasses, chairs squeaking, laughter…can’t say that I blame them…I’d be drinking too if those spawn were mine.

While they drowned their sorrows in drinks, I drowned mine with my iPod. Korn is so soothing when trying to sleep.

Today’s birth control pill never looked so good.

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~ by pithycomments on July 11, 2008.

5 Responses to “You people make my ovaries twitch”

  1. Dharma and Greg? Is it 1996 again?

    And i still don’t believe you about the baby-sitting thing. Nice try.

  2. 1997 actually.

  3. You know I watched it for teh first time about 2 weeks ago so I am going with 2008. Speaking of hell – back I go… is it 5:30 yet?

  4. I’m the same way with kids. I can tolerate my friends kids, but that’s about it. I have a strange feeling it will never change.

  5. […] Surely you jest […]

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