I do not have any children.

I have never wanted any children.

My biological clock must have been on permanent snooze.

And now, that biological clock is unplugged and gathering dust in the garage.

First, as I posted last week, I have never wanted to be a grownup.

Having kids means you automatically have to be the grownup.

No thank you.

Kids are expensive and time consuming.

I like spending my money and time on me.

So, again, no thank you.

Don’t get me wrong.  I like kids.  They are amazing and fun creatures.

I just don’t want one of my own.

I want to spoil them and teach them bad words and get them hyped up on sugar and then hand them back to their parents, preferably after giving them noisy toys to play with – at home.

All the fun, none of the consequences.

I was fortunate that I never had parents that bugged me to give them grandchildren.

My siblings took care of that.  Thank you, siblings.

And I salute anyone who is brave enough and generous enough to have children.

Good on you.

And if you need a babysitter, I’m there for you – unless I have other plans of course, because, you know – no kids.

Oh – and you probably don’t want your kids in my house – because it is so not baby-proofed – because, again, no kids.

And if your kid messes with my cats and gets scratched or bitten – I’m going to side with my cats every time.

Just so you know.

And do I feel unfulfilled?

Not in the least.

And do I worry about not leaving a legacy?


Why do you think I’m posting all those clips on YouTube?

We should all know by now – the internet is forever!


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