I don’t have kids, don’t get me wrong I’m not a kid hater, in fact I like kids.
They’re so much more honest than adults, you know where you stand with a 5 year old. If they like you they’ll let you know, but if they think you’re a bit of a twat then they won’t spend 20 minutes talking to you whilst looking over your shoulder.
The problem with wanting kids when you’re a woman in your 30s is that most of the things I try and focus on in my life, like writing, performing, spending time with friends and family etc are deafened by the sound of my biological clock. I’m sick of people telling me that I’ve got plenty of time. “Don’t worry, you’ve got ages till you have to think about getting pregnant. You’re still young” I’m 35. “Oh… no, you’re buggered then.” I’m resigned to the fact that I’ll probably have to think about adoption because by the time I get my act together my womb will be like scene from a Spaghetti Western. By that I mean tumble weed not full of Mexicans.
The fact is if a woman wants kids then that is pretty much all she has on the brain. Just going to the cinema with a friend can get awkward. “What film do you fancy going to see?” “Dunno, don’t care.” “Well we could see…Inception or …” “I don’t care, I don’t bloody care? Can you get me pregnant? Can you? CAN YOU GET ME PREGNANT ARSE HOLE? NO? THEN SHUT UP!!” Ok, I lied when I said that was my friend, it was actually my girlfriend. She’s quite sensitive at the moment.
Obviously I have friends who have kids, and of course I love the little nuggets, but for some reason unknown to me, they think I want to come to their kids party. “Molly is going to be 3 on Sunday and she’s having a party we’d love you to come” Why the hell would I want to come to a 3 year old’s birthday party? I’m 35, not 5. Unless you’ve got a punch bowl filled with gin I’m not coming. What is it with adults going to kids parties and hanging around watching them play? “Ah, look they’re playing!” “It’s lovely watching them play together.” No it’s not it’s boring. BORING. These days there are more adults at a kids party than there are kids. Isn’t that just a little bit creepy and weird? When I was growing up, if I went to a party my Mum would drop me off. Yes, that’s right she left me at my friend’s house. That’s normal and then she’d pick me up at the end of the party. Dear God, she wanted to get rid of me! If someone had asked my Mum if she’d like to stay she’d have said, “Why?’ “To see your daughter play and have a glass of wine…” “I see her play every day and I have wine at home. Goodbye.”
Another thing I don’t get is kids’ party food, I remember when it was hula hoops, Smarties and iced gems. Now it’s pitta bread, olives and humus. For crying out loud give them some chocolate! “My daughter actually prefers tzatziki to sweets.” “Really then why is she face down in the sugar bowl right now?”
The truth is that I clearly can’t cope with the responsibility of having a kid. So, for now I’ll settle for our house cat, yes we have a cat. He’s not alive you understand, he’s stuffed. We have a stuffed cat. He’s really no bother at all and if nothing else, we get to watch him being dry humped by an over confident squirrel every other week. Maybe I should start with a goldfish…Posted on 24th August 2010