Guys, I’m not ready to procreate yet. Half the people I went to high school with already have a kid and are PLANNING (WUT, why??) for a second–or even a third–child. Granted, this is the half that never really graduated from high school, if you know what I mean, but Facebook knows no bounds. I’m still bombarded with ultrasounds and cake smash photo shoots all the same. However, it is a helpful, daily reminder that I am in no way, shape, or form mentally, financially, or emotionally stable enough for a child right now. Why? Well…
1. I can hardly remember to take my birth control every day. It sits in the same place on my bathroom sink, staring up at me each morning, but alas, I walk out the door without my daily dose of whatever the fuck magic is in those pills that prevents the phenomenon commonly known as “baby.” If I’m incapable of keeping up with the preventative measures, who is to trust me with the actual human being? Also, waking up for my alarm is struggle enough, and I can’t snooze an infant.
2. I don’t like baby shower games. Is that weird? To be fair, I don’t really like games in general–anything from Heads Up 7-Up in second grade to obnoxious wedding shower games today that your friends trick you into playing because you love them and they know this, damn it. I have one exception, though: drinking games. I fucking love drinking games. And drinking. And not having a baby, am I right?
3. I’m not really even in a serious relationship, and I’ve heard on the streets that’s kind of frowned upon in the baby-makin’ game. I’m in that, “Do you…? Do I…? Are we…? Sex” kind of relationship, which is basically the furthest thing from the “spill your seed inside me” relationship. Basically, I’m still getting in plenty of practice and I’m hiking on the sidelines, but I can’t snap the ball when I don’t even know who my star quarterback’s going to be.
4. Speaking of sports, how am I supposed to make time for this kid? I still get too worked up to safely carry a child in my body during basketball season because March Madness is a thing and the selection committee is a complete joke. Quite frankly, I like beer with my baseball and I am a giant foul ball magnet, creating an unsafe child-rearing environment. And how can you just be cool with giving up tailgating during football season? One of my biggest fears is that I’ll wind up pregnant during the Olympics and fail as an American. According to those pamphlets in the waiting room at the lady doctor, a steady diet of pizza and Bud heavy lacks a certain nutritional value, but what do they know?
5. I want abs. This one’s pretty self-explanatory.
6. Lastly, I’m selfish as fuck. And that’s okay because I’m 23 and it’s just me over here. I live in a city I can’t afford, in an apartment I can barely afford, and if you were to open my fridge right now, you’d see a whole lot of beer and Gatorade and not much of anything else. I’m not a huge fan of wearing pants, but I like to spend what extra money I have buying them. I have an awesome job that gets me into the office pretty early, but also has some seriously awesome perks that keep me out late at night. And, really, I’m not ready to relinquish my cool just yet. I still have a few more years left of honing that shit before I pass it to the next generation.
Basically, I’m just holding out a few more years so I can show off how cool my kids are in comparison to yours at that one class reunion I plan on attending one day. Yeah…that’s it.