Wednesday, September 29, 2010

In Dreams

I had a dream last night that I was just chilling by myself, sitting on a stoop somewhere.  A woman and her young daughter came along, and the little girl just up and sat on my lap.  The first thing I noticed was that she had a cat nose and patches of blue fur on her face.  Oh, and whiskers.  I was nice to her and asked her what her name was (I don't remember) and how old she was.  She said she was seven, and I commented on her fur.  She seemed a little embarrassed at first, and her mother said it's something they don't really like to talk about.  I told the girl that I thought her fur was really cute, and I wish I had some.  She giggled, and then I woke up.  I have a general rule about kids:  I hate them.  They annoy me to no end when I encounter them in the wild.  I run away from them like a level 5 mage stumbling across a full grown Adamantoise.  I avoid them like the plague if I see them in public.  Now I think perhaps I make such a fuss because I'm scared I'll never have any kids.  I'll certainly never be knocking any broads up; and right about now, there's no prospect of a partner with whom to rear a child.  I have a friend who in pre-dating stages, found out that the guy in interest wants a kid by the time he's 30, whether he's with someone or not.  Is it just me, or do you not tell people that?  I imagine a woman telling a man (she's never even met yet) that she wants a baby within three years, and I see him heading for the hills.  And with us it's different.  We can't just trick a guy into getting us pregnant if we're desperate.  We have to go through lengthy adoption processes (if you're even allowed to, depending on what state you're in) or deal with surrogacy.  Buying a bitch's baby is EXPENSIVE.  And then she can always back out until the little bastard is born.  I have friends who already have small children.  I can't imagine caring for a child at this stage of my life.  I admit that I really want to, but not for another ten years or so.  Until I feel like I'm in a better place in my life (and hopefully with a man who has Oprah money), I'll continue the charade that I abhor children.  Nasty little things.  Twat vomit and crotch fruit, the lot of them.