They say life is short, but it feels brutally long. Having a kid seems to be the right thing to do on the life checklist. Mama said go to school, get good grades, get a decent job, tie the knot and have a thankless child just like she did. So, what about having kids? Knowing that barely making it to school was the only thing I did on that list, it does make me wonder.
I have a real problem. The moment something becomes popular, I hate it immediately. I was a hipster before it was cool, now I’m going through a re-invention. As we speak, all my friends are doing exactly what they’re supposed to… going forth & multiplying.
I always expected the feeling of wanting to be a dad would magically kick in.
Like a shot of rum, or three, on a rainy day, the blissfully warm feeling of WANTING TO BE A DAD™ would just ease in and kick my paternal instincts into overdrive. I should’ve paid more attention in biology class, because that simply hasn’t happened yet.
Don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out with kids. If they’re owned by someone else, time restricted to 25 mins and two hours after their sugar rush, they make excellent buddies who don’t judge you for not having kids of your own. They’re also great company to watch cartoons with (they like totally get it) & debate philosophical quandaries like the metaphysics of milk and cookies.
Are you still wondering if I should have kids? It’s not like there’s an Amazon review or an in-depth Netflix documentary to peruse to help me figure this out. So, I turned to my close friends who are now fathers, a group I can split in two distinct halves. On one side are the dads that claim they’ve been touched by the hand of the divine and experienced a complete transformation. “Claim” being the operative word. On the side are the: “Kids?… Oh my God, I have one and forgot to pick them up!”
The common thread between both sides is the obvious fact that being a parent cannot be planned to perfection and things just fall into place and it happens. Or it doesn’t.
It isn’t that I strongly want or don’t want to have children, I’m trying to figure out if it’s right for me. On one end is my extremely selfish side that wants to be the focus of the story and not share the limelight with mini-me. The flip side is my altruistic thought of not wanting to bring a child into the dizzying world of today.
What baffles me is, how the subject of kids is even a point of contention in the brain of this monkey, which after a billion years has evolved to carry out its singular purpose of taking the species forward. Something’s gone wrong somewhere perhaps.
I guess in the end, all I can say is… if you have to ask, then no, you probably shouldn't have kids. But I live in constant fear of the day when I won’t have to ask.