So kids are a nightmare.
They run around with too much energy, and throw tantrums when they're too tired to keep running. Do you want to sleep? No! I'd rather express myself while massaging your ear drums with shrieks and cries.
Then, why don't you wait till just after I sit down to need something. Please, my ass is huge and I need the exercise. Complete sarcasm.
Why did you move that? Becuz it's a toy now, especially if its dangerous.
And yet, I leave in a week, so the trials for me will soon be over.
I have been jumped on, climbed on, my bed has been peed on, milk spilled, and I've tried to help with potty training. (Like most sane people, I drew the line at diapers.) I have also been requested to read a bed time story. I have had two little munchkins hanging off my jean's back pockets. I have chased them back and forth around me, hanging off said pockets asking in Gollum's voice "what does it have in its pocketses?" Then bending down, reaching thru my legs for them, "ahhhh, Bagginses!"
But here's the thing, I'm firmly in the anti-children camp. All my friends are having offspring and I think "good, better you than me." But damn, my best girlfriend made some cute as sin kids.
