Sunday, April 6, 2014
I have realized that to have a proper conversation with nearly 100% of everyone I work with I must have a kid. I have tried to talk about other topics that I find interesting like frogs, frog soup, and how dragonflies start out as frogs; but every attempt I make is quickly turned into how her child loves frogs, or how his child would never eat a frog, or how their child is currently studying about dragonflies in school. Unless I can bring "my child" into the conversation, my topic is quickly stolen and turned into something I no longer recognize.
What happened to parents who don't care about their children?
Fast forward a couple minutes. I am saying goodbye to a bunch of kids as they are being picked up by parents who I never want to know and I see our school's security guard. Male. Tall. Beard. Possibly no children. I decide to find out. Turns out he has 3. This time I unload my mind onto him with the hopes that maybe if I wear my opinions on my sleeve instead of constantly staring at mouths as globs of child dribbles out waiting for the prime moment to cut in with something intellectually stimulating I might have a chance. What I got was, "Well, what if you got a dog or a cat?" Instantly I think, "That doesn't make sense."
Rewind a couple hours. Its my lunch break, I am driving to the thrift store because I can. I see this fluffy flat blob on the side of the road. I knew what it was but I decided to wait until I could see the front of it in my rear view mirror before I believed it. My hunch was right, it was a dead kitten, and it was cute as hell. Guess what I did? You guessed it, I kept on driving.
I would never do that if it was a kid.