Kids and I
I like kids. I really do. I think they’re cute, and funny, and soft. And they’re fun to kiss (if you can catch them) and they’re fun to run after when you want to kiss them, and they say the darnedest things. But what can one do with a kid that’s none of these-yet?
I can’t get excited over infants less than 7 weeks old. They’re not cute- close up they look like smooth-skinned ETs and honestly- how interesting can a creature whose highlight of the day is letting out a burp be? And yet, people are fascinated by them. They stick their face into its face, say “oh kitchy pitchy chota bacha, aww goochi moochi goo” and then double over with joy when it opens its eyes and sticks out its tongue.
Next thing you know, it’ll vomit and they’ll send it to college.
Today I voiced my opinions and shocked my entire family. I think they won’t let me raise my own kids, and they’ll hold alternate parenting sessions with my offspring to give them a well-rounded, balanced childhood. I won’t mind. They can have them til they’re 2 years old. And potty-trained. But then I want my kids back.
I’ve noticed kids instinctively know when somebody has no clue how to handle them. Children adore my sister, and she can baby-talk with them for hours. I on the other hand feel children deserve respect and at least some semblance of an intelligent conversation, which is why they completely ignore me until they’re 9 years old and want to be taken seriously.
It’s funny how when children need attention they’re treated like kids; and when they don’t really care what you think or who you are, they’re considered intelligent if they can burp by themselves. Parenting really needs to be changed.