I am not going to be a very good friend. Although I am not really close to this happening, I already know the truth. Once my friends are married, and start having children, the truth will come out. Ok, enough with the buildup. Here goes...I have a complete inability to muster up any sort of excitement for other people's children. Zero. Zip. Zilch. No, I don't want to see pictures. No I don't want to hear about Skyler's birthday party. No, I don't want to hear about Madison's dance recital. The truth of the matter is, I just don't care more than the cursory, required-by-polite-society amount. In reality, I don't care a lick.
I've been getting all kinds of practice around my office. Just about everyone in the office has at least one child. Some even have grandchildren. All they do is chatter about the soccer games, basketball games, and dance recitals (one that is particularly hard to dodge since it got out that I used to dance -- what?! I didn't know sharing that little tidbit would come back to haunt me). And then there are the older children, who get suspended from school, who won't do their homework, who are all around pains in the arses. ARGH. Shut up, shut up, shut up. I. DON'T. CARE. Don't parents have anything else to talk about?
On that same subject, there's a beach out in Lake Forest that has a 21 and up section. How awesome does that sound!? Hooray being on the beach without the kids and pails and shovels and screaming. Ahhhh, bliss.
And, I know I've said it a hundred times, but I realize in a few years, when my biological clock is doing more than blithely moving along, I may want a snot-nosed rugrat of my own. (Although I can't be certain about that). But until such time, can a girl hear something other than about other people's kids? Gah!
I'm starting to think that the same goes for other people's pets too. Although, I still want a pet. I'm also still allergic. However, I added a pet to the list of things I would buy if I were making more money. I also added language classes, incidentally. *Sigh*. What is it about sending my resume to martamack that is so difficult anyway? Well, there is the co-worker glitch. She already sent her resume, but hasn't heard back. I sincerely doubt that they would take two of us from the same place. So, I suppose I'm stuck....and broke. Meh.
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For the record, the very next day after this post went up, married martamack told me a story about his snot-nosed rugrat. Apparently she likes to sit in the doggie bed. Best story I ever heard -- minus the best. Sigh. Does no one listen when pheebee muses or rants?
Is that a trick question?
MMM
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