Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Planned Parenthood

It began as a joke to embellish my tomboy-ness about 5 years ago.  First with a flippant “I’m never having kids,” while passing an ill-tempered child in public.  After a few refrains, my friends doubted me, and I modified: “Fine, but definitely not a girl—Little girls are the devil.” 

My obnoxious mantras continued to churn, with more than a few eyerolls, to solidify into a fully-fledged life plan for parenthood.  The more I recount the plan, the stronger I buy-in to it, and the closer it moves to fruition.  Here it is—

I’m going to adopt a 6-year-old boy.  No, really. I’m doing it.  “Why,” you ask? The benefits are great. Consider that by jumping into parenthood with a 6-year-old, you can:

  • Avoid pregnancy, childbirth and all related plagues of that bitch, Eve.
  • Ensure gender
  • Pick a cute one
  • Administer personality and/or IQ tests, if necessary
  • Send him to school full-time
  • Evade career-limiting maternity leave
  • Have a walking, talking, potty-trained child
  • Delay parenthood for six years, and jump-in on a “normal” timeline
  • Have an adult child to entertain you and care for you when you’re retired and bored
At this point, whatever aghast listeners I am selling usually nod reluctantly to acknowledge the validity of at least some of my argument.  Thinking that I surely have not thought this through, they ask follow-up questions hoping to crumble a house of cards. They’re very wrong.  Examples:

Q: But you don’t really want to miss those adorable baby and toddler years, do you? 
A: Yes, I do.  They are only adorable when you can give them back so they don’t vomit on you and scream in your ear all night.  At least when a 6-year-old screams, he can communicate what’s wrong. 

Q: Wouldn’t you be nervous about emotional or developmental challenges that might come with adopting a child that old?
A: As already stated—A child that old is relatable with a defined, assessable personality. Best-case scenario involves some sort of return policy written into the adoption contract that I never have to use.  Worst case scenario will be my nanny’s or stay-at-home-husband’s challenge. I will not be the primary caregiver, given my goals to build a successful career and have a life.  And, all else failing, there’s always boarding school…which is decidedly less harsh when he’s not technically even my child, anyway.

See? I said it was thought-through. Read it a few more times and notice how the plan becomes increasingly attractive.  I’ve since moved to bartering for my pregnant friends’ unborn children. I figure, if they haven’t met the kid yet, I’m more likely to convince them to keep it for only six years, incubating in a safe, socializing family environment—Perfect!


  1. I hope the next post is about this "stay-at-home husband. :)


  2. Really, Crispy? I thought I had changed your mind. I mean...I'm cute, I can communicate better than all my other peers who are 2.5 years old, I can freaking read, and aside from the occasional happy hour I get to attend with my mom that slightly impacts her social life, I really don't impact the amount of hours that she works...she just spends less time with me. It's doable. Think about it.
    ~Emerson Winn