Posted by: nastypen | January 5, 2007

My Parental Instincts Are As Alive As a Roadkill Frog

Generally, I do not like kids.

I always tell people that I will have children as long as there are “on/off” switches on them. I would watch and wince at parents in the malls with screaming kids latching on their pants and vibrating like crazy about wanting that particular toy. On the way here from Abu Dhabi, I was subject to an 8-hour torture of an infant screaming and this kid running around and tripping down the aisle while his mother was hissing and snapping like a kettle.

I like dogs.

I mean I cannot hit kids (lucky younger generation! In my time, my dad cornered me and smacked me good.) I can hit the dog but the dog will still love me unconditionally.

Dogs don’t talk back.

Dogs don’t steal money from your wallet.

Dogs don’t drive you insane by writing in their journals that you as a parent happen to “stumble upon” and get to read loving scribbles like “I hate my dad. I wish I was dead. I never asked to be born.” Dogs don’t get teenage angst that can stretch to the 30s.

Dogs don’t need an educational plan.

Vets are cheaper than pediatricians. I won’t feel guilty if the dog missed an appointment.

Dogs won’t complain if I watch the BBC instead of something inane and electricity-wasting like Hero channel.

Dogs won’t roll their eyes if you talk to them how much fun you had reading books in high school….or how much fun and challenging Physics was.

However, last night, I was lying on my bed and was reading a funny novel about suicide attempts, when Onyx just started to sniff and wag her tail frantically. I just patted her with my fat hands and her snout rested near my bloated tummy. She sniffed and sniffed. I was just engrossed.

Onyx then lunged and nipped at my man boob!

I yelped and she started to jump up and down barking. She wanted to play tug-o-war with me with her toy. I stared her down and rubbed where she bit and remarked, “There’s only one person who can do that to me, bitch!” And I wrestled with her for a bit, her shedding hair all over me till I pushed her out of my room.

Ok, that scene won’t happen with a kid unless I’m breastfeeding.

Sometimes, I see all these dads with their kids and I smile. Hey, I AM capable of mush. Of course, I do imagine that I can have kids. The tenderness you pour on that tiny bundle of flesh and you know you have the answer of life’s big questions when that infant gurgles a smile at you. Such purity of emotion has no price.
BUT, reality is a bitch and my close friend. I personally hate it when people frown that I do not like the concept of child-rearing.

They say, “who will take care of you when you get old?” Isn’t that a bit too selfish a concept of parenthood? Breeding children to help you sh*t to a bedpan? How about the concept of nurturing these tiny human beings to be the best they can be thus making them more productive members of society?

I guess being childless is a calling for me. Although, I was told that I will have four children by this soothsayer. I sputtered when she told me that. And this is no soothsayer from cockroach-infested holes in the wall. She is the darling and favorite of several bored wives of military men and politicians and celebs. She had this steely gaze at me when she said that I’ll be a dad, “I am never wrong.”

To check her out, I asked her what does the future hold for my father. She looked in her cards and crystal ball, yes a tiny one, and said, “It’s all black. Your father is dead.  Are you testing me?”

Oh lordy!  she is correct and nobody told her that my dad’s dead!

I told her if there are charms or incantations that would stop that prediction from happening.

She looked at me with bewilderment, “You don’t like children?”

I told her I’m saving up for a gastric bypass and doses of botox and not for a college fund!

She smiled, “You will have children. Two sets of sons and daughters. One of your son will be the total opposite of you.” Great, I will be raising a future womanizing military general. The boyfriend says I will make a great dad. Sure, the babies will like sleeping on my big fat soft tummy.

The boyfriend just had a twinkle in his eye when he said that I am father material.

Well, I do have the look and shape of a daddy…I have the hanging belly to prove it.

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Responses

  1. who knows? you were drunk in mexico!

  2. oonga eh….dapat when drinking alcohol, keep women away from me !!! hahahaha kadiri!!!!!

  3. i am in this zone, bakla. you know? wishing that i have a uterus? chos. hahahahaha! hay naku. one thing’s for sure though, i love dogs as well. anu ba napaka-incoherent ng comment ko!!! o, sige eto na lang. mare, someone gave me kikay socks last christmas and i don’t like them. if you want it, it’s yours…

  4. I dont want to be surprised one day by a child knocking on the front door, looking for Nastypen and saying that Nastypen’s his/her father. Nightmare!!!

  5. more reasons why not to have kids, well for the meantime. haha. try to watch nanny 911 on ETC for more reasons : ) i feel so good im not a mother… yet! maybe when im 60.

    i hope your dog gets pregnant though so i can have a labrador puppy hehehehehe


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