As I said, the depth of my ignorance is terrifying. But once you get past all the ways in which I could easily kill or cripple my own child, there’s a bunch of stuff that will probably be pretty fun.
So I’ve made another list!
- I’ll finally own some property. It’s not real estate, but it’s something! And white babies are worth a TON.
- As a lifelong fan of cults, it will be nice to have my first disciple. Stay tuned for a list of things I will be brainwashing my son into believing teaching my son.
- A valid reason to watch “SpongeBob SquarePants.” I’ve hardly ever seen the show, but something about it intrigues me. I think it’s the starfish character. I like his voice. And he looks delicious.
- Purposefully causing strangers to stare by pretending to teach my baby terrible things: “Hail Satan! His power is stronger than stronger! His might will last LONGER THAN LONGER!”
- Actually teaching him terrible things.
- Forcing him to wear shirts with logos of bands I like.
- Forcing him to wear shirts with logos of teams I like.
- Building up a resistance to vomit. Finally, I shall conquer the beast.
- An unassailable excuse to get out of any and all things. “Sorry, I can’t make it, I HAVE A FUCKING BABY.”
- Really, the first ten years should be pretty cool. The fifteen after that, not so much. But once he’s 21 or so? Smooth sailing! Not long after that I’ll be in a nursing home/ripped-on-heroin-at-all-times, so who cares?