I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Parents are the worst. Actually, politicians are probably the worst. And other people’s kids suck pretty bad too. And Nazis.
In fact, I changed my mind. I’m going to go out on a limb and say the Nazis are really the worst.
But parents still suck pretty bad. I knew it before I had a kid and it’s become even more apparent since I’ve joined their ranks.
Here are some of the reasons why.
As a world-famous blogger who hates his kid and once mentioned Bronies, I get A LOT of weird spam. Most of it regarding my penis.
Sometimes I actually get asked advice, and sometimes I get yelled at; sometimes I get praise, and sometimes an old teacher from high school reaches out to say hi. (Most of the time I get yelled at.)
Yesterday, I got an email that I initially thought was spam. I’m still not positive it’s not. Just in case, I’m responding to a reader who wants to know if she can be happy without kids.
We’d wanted one for years.
As soon as we got married, we started planning for it. We knew we’d need a bigger place first, and should probably try to save up a little too. But there was never going to be a perfect time for it. We just had to take the plunge, come what may.
It would change our lives, without a doubt. But we were confident the benefits would make it worthwhile. We watched our friends with envy and we knew we had to do it too.
So we did it. We finally got ourselves a King mattress.
Unfortunately, then we had a kid.
Thank you all for coming. I’m sure my toddler will appreciate it years from now, when we show him pictures and explain everything, since he’s barely three and doesn’t understand what it’s all about and won’t remember a single moment.
It’s been a tough couple of days since Lovey left us, particularly for Detective Munch, who has lost his sidekick, his snot rag, his bunk-mate, his whipping boy, his partner-in-crime, his napkin…
His best friend.
It’s a sad day, but we’re here to celebrate a life well-lived, not mourn an untimely – but inevitable – passing. Let’s face it, if Lovey hadn’t been lost, he probably would’ve disintegrated; dude was FILTHY. (By which I mean: well-loved.)