I'm Sorry I Don't Care About Your Baby
This headline is not sarcastic… I’m legitimately sorry.
I want to care about your baby. For your sake and my sake I want to not feel sick to my stomach when I see pictures of your reptilian looking newborn or your gorgeous [something, idk]-month old on Facebook. But I hate it and I’m sorry.
There’s no interesting philosophical or feminist or ideological reason. There’s no defense. I just feel really, deeply uncomfortable when I see people’s babies.
I feel weird because I’ve never been in a relationship that was either a) secure enough to produce a baby or b) interesting enough to want to think about long-term attachment. Whenever people from my high school get married their parents side hug me and tell me “you’ll be next, don’t worry.” When I see a baby I feel guilty and bad that I should have one of my own by now or maybe two or one and a pair of precocious fraternal twins or maybe if not I should have a blog about my fertility problems.
I’m not belittling anyone who has or wants children or trivializing motherhood. If I’m criticizing anyone it’s myself. Nobody wants to be cynical and moreover nobody wants to feel regressive. I want to care about your baby but I don’t. Sorry.
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To begin, I got totally screwed over in the dental genes department. I was born with a pretty severe overbite and a mouth that was too small.
If this doesn’t become the biggest video on the Internet, then I have no faith left in humanity.
Describe for us the threesome with your OKCupid hookup.
I visited synagogues all over the world—from Syosset, to Beverly Hills, and back again to Jericho. Studies were made, tests were run, I tasted the blood of a virgin Jew and even conducted my very own bris.