I Won’t Be Little Johnny’s Daddy

I get asked on occasion if I have children and I proudly tell them that, no, I do not have any children.  They then come to one of two conclusions:

  1. My junk just don’t work (this would apply to those that are unaware I’m gay, because they’re blind, deaf, or dumb, or any combination of the before-mentioned illnesses).
  2. I’m unable to adopt because the Himalayan Whistle Kid is out of my price range (they know I can never lower myself to buy non-imported goods).

They are then horrified to learn the truth that I do not have any children by choice.  They look at me as if I have 2 headed quadriplegic prostitute standing outside a church, singing Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back.”  I know that all parents say that all children are a blessing, “with your own children it’s different,” and various other delusional propaganda that people try to sell you.

I have no desire to talk baby speak to children, clean up poop, be stressed if the babysitter is sick and OH MY GOD I’m going to get fired if you’re late one more day and little Johnny can not find his shoes!!!!!!  I can barely manage myself some days, what makes people think that I can also manage another living being that, literally, depends on me for survival?  I would be ok with having kids if they were out of their teenage years.  I don’t want to be a slave to them for several years then, as soon as they hit their teen years, I’m some mindless monster for, OMG, telling them to clean up their room.  Worst.  Parent.  Ever.

I would just want kids to take care of me when I’m older and brain dead.  However, at that point in the ballgame, I probably wouldn’t be lucid enough to care, as I will be hopped up on enough drugs to choke an elephant, God willing.

And, while we’re on the subject, WHY am I a freak for not wanting to procreate/adopt a little Asian boy?  I know that when people think of a stable gay relationship they think of the two daddies/mommies skipping down the sidewalk, hand in hand, with their Siamese twins joined-at-the-head Chinese girls in matching side-by-side strollers.  However, I’m not one of them.  Sure, I skip.  I’m a master skipper and I put my queer peers to shame.  I just don’t think I have the time or energy to invest in a little one.

Ok, sure, if it would happen by accident (“Mike, I haven’t bled out of my ass in a little over a month, I’m pretty sure I missed my period.) I could rearrange my life.  Or get an abortion or give it up.  But accidents don’t happen in gay relationships (unless I cheat on Mike with a woman…I guess that would get us onto Maury Povich!).  This child would involve a LOT of money, lawyers, and paperwork.  And there isn’t anything accidental with lawyers and paperwork.

And, finally, seriously.  Can you see this sexy guy driving around in a mini-van, hauling my child/children all around the area to soccer practice, ballet (if they’re a male).  I think we can all answer with a resounding “No.”

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One response to “I Won’t Be Little Johnny’s Daddy

  1. Pingback: From A Child’s Perspective, Not A Parent | Cornfield Queer

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