One of the many reasons I’ve chosen to not have kids is because I can’t take the pressure of forming young minds. I just know that, despite my best efforts, I’d end up raising the next Ted Bundy or Florida face-eater.
Also, I don’t want to give up day drinking.
Sidenote: It has been awhile since we have had a good serial killer. I keep trying to think of some recent ones, and I keep coming up with serial killers from the 90s, at best.
One of the things that comes along with the territory of not having kids is that you are prime babysitting candidate for your friends who did have kids
and now spend all of their time trying to plan nights out away from them. The problem is that, since I don’t have kids, I tend to second-guess myself constantly when babysitting.
Not long ago I babysat the youngest son of some friends while they took their oldest son to an appointment. Not 15 minutes after they left, I had to pee. Which left me with a dilemma: do I close the door to pee and leave a two-year-old unattended? Or do I leave the door open and possibly expose my vajay to a toddler? It was a toss-up so I had to call them and ask which was worse: leaving a toddler unattended or exposing my vajay to their youngest child?
After they got done laughing they said that they usually just leave the door open.
But exposing yourself to a toddler is not something you just assume is ok, right? Like, I don’t want him to be in therapy 20 years down the road and be all, “Things were going great until I saw my babysitter’s vajay, and then life was downhill from there.” Or worse, have it be some kind of turning point that turns him into a serial killer who murders hookers and writes “babysitter’s vajay” in blood on their dead bodies. Although then we’d finally have a more recent serial killer to reference.
And that is my point: I don’t know how the minds of kids are formed and even the shit that seems weird to me, I now just take in stride as what must be normal. I had a mom tell me the “funniest” story about how her toddler daughter shoved a tampon in her diaper because she had seen her mom do it so many times. There was part of me that was thinking, “Huh, that’s weird. Is inserting tampons in front of your child a normal thing?” but at that point, I figured that there must be so many rules to parenting, that I don’t realize which are normal and which are, in fact, bat-shit insane. At that point she could have ended the story with, “So I gave her a shot of whiskey and a smoke and sent her outside to play,” and I would have been like, “Oh, that sounds like fun.” Even though the tampon thing did kind of weird me out.
Actually, you know what? I’m just going to put it out there: stop inserting tampons into your vag when your kids are around. If I did remember seeing that shit, it would stick with me. In a weird and uncomfortable way. I am the voice of the children. Knock it off. They don’t need to see shit going into your vag.
You think it’s bad when kids stick stuff up their noses.
And it is worse when babysitting girls because I am more keenly aware of the fact that their delicate little egos being damaged could lead to things like growing up to be a day-drinking foul mouth who writes about vagina mugshots and boner pills.
I once babysat the newly adopted tot of some friends and, as it was my first time with this little girl (who would later be the flower girl in my wedding), I wanted to make a good impression.
I took my little flower-girl-to-be to the food co-op to grab some snacks before we hit the park (oh yeah, I was pulling out all the stops). As I sat their with her in the produce aisle, trying to decide what to get for us to eat, my brain was like, “Strawberries would be good….no I think I heard once that you’re not supposed to give young toddlers strawberries…..blueberries? choking hazard…..bananas! No…..I think those can cause tummy aches. Apples? Shit…..I think those cause diarrhea.”
Suddenly it was no longer the produce section of the grocery store I was standing in, it was a baby killing field.
It wasn’t long before a lady with a cart was cooing over the baby and saying how darling she was. “Thanks,” I said, “She was just adopted. I have no idea what to feed her.” I went back to picking out produce before I realized how that sounded and turned around to clarify that I was not the one who had just adopted this baby, and to assure her that the baby’s actual parents did know what to feed her. Unfortunately the lady was nowhere to be seen. Presumably because she ran off to alert the proper authorities.
Of course, at this point, the poor kid started crying, so I quickly picked out a snack and gave it to her. Then kicked myself the rest of the night because I had just taught her to self-soothe with food. So….thanks Aunt Jess for Baby’s First Eating Disorder.
So rest assured, if you have a boy, I will turn him into a serial killer. And if you have a girl, I will ensure she has body issues and an eating disorder. And will probably day drink.
Parents: think twice before entrusting me with the care of your precious children.