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I always thought I'd have kids at 30ish. I also thought I'd have a thick mane of chest hair like Sean Connery in the Bond film. Neither happened.
At 31, I'm not in a rush for either; regularly ensuring that the woman's on the pill (because condoms) and fortnightly running a number 2 clipper over my chest. So what happened there then? It's tricky, y'all. From what I understand having kids can either complete your life, making you a better person - or completely eff it up, making you :-[
Scientists state this situation comes down to how the pregnancy came about:
a) Planned. "We are happy. This is a beautiful embodiment / culmination of our love / effort to save our marriage."
b) Unplanned. "'Jesus Christ'. I cannot believe this is happening to me. I am fucked. You told me that you would pull out."
Excited about having a little bro to pass the torch to; eventually asking him for IT support when my brain microchip fails to boot. I will fade into old age, watching from the sidelines as he grows into maturity strong and clean.
Worried about not even liking the kid when it grows up. What if it doesn't get by personal brand / is interested in 'complete and utter bullshit' like football, dentistry, or dubstep?
Q&A
Would you install a brain microchip into your brain or is that effing weird?
Would you do it if it had an Apple logo on it? (This question explores our relationship with technology and branding as savvy consumers living in the 1st World.)
Do you have kids? If so, how would you rate your situation out of 10, where 10 is 'The Best Thing I Ever Did' and 1 being 'Complete Fucking Disaster'?
I don't know which Sean Connery Bond film is which :-[ You have the 1 with the broad in the white bikini, the 1 with the N64 Goldeneye Odd Job-bro, the Asian 1, and then the 1 with the moon raker. (That 1's called The Moonraker ;-] ) I guess I don't really have a question.
In this post I've been riffing upon my thoughts on children in our post-20 something world.
Remain self aware, y'all.
xx
(2 kisses.)
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