I forgot about my blog.

It's times like these I'm reminded why I'd be a terrible mother.  I just can't nurture and grow these things.  I mean, it's been weeks.  I've neglected my blog.

There's also the whole "I hate children" thing.  And the painful process of birth that I feel really isn't worth it when I can adopt a dog from a shelter AND feel good about myself.

I've always hated children.  Even when I was a child.  See for reference: "I'm a pre-school dropout".  Oh yes-- the growling and the beating.  Mm. Yeah-  I don't exactly regret any of that.  It meant I wasn't signed up for ridiculous dance classes or otherwise sociable torture.  It got the point across that I didn't want to interact with the weird dumb things with perpetual snot bubbles coming out their nose.

Once, my little brother was invited to a Chuck-E-Cheese party.  I had never been because- you guessed it- the place has a dangerously large infestation of children.  Nevermind they're being served disgusting pizza by a large rat.

"Chuck-E-Cheese"

Chuck-E-Cheese: Out of Costume

Anyways, back to the point.  Chuck-E-Cheese's is crawling with children.   Naturally, I freaked and backed my way out the door, knowing that if they touched me I would inherently catch something irreversible and traumatizing. A little boy went barrelling into my legs and something WET touched me.  Ohmyfuckinggodsnot bubbleonmylegandhedidn'tevensay"sorry".  I never went into a Chuck-E-Cheese after that.  I want to live a long, happy life free of debilitating illness caused by stray snot bubbles.

My outfit should I ever have to go back to Chuck-E-Cheese.

That and, I don't think my leg could handle if I dumped any more disinfectant on it.  The joke is that I get hives around small children.  This joke only furthers my belief that they are out to damage my health.

As I progressed through life, I managed to develop a tolerance for children: and by that I mean I think my immune system began to arm itself much more effectively against snot bubble viruses.  It didn't mean that I sought children out, but it meant that I could help coach a basketball team of tweens.  It's not like I could still be around 3-year-olds or anything.  And I actually liked basketball. And if any of them pissed me off I could just steal the ball. Because, you know, that's allowed in basketball.

One of the girls on the team decided I had to be her best friend/older sister/mom.  Hahahahaha. No. I gently discouraged the overattachment.

That was fine when we were in practice.  But when I'm in a supermarket, unsuspecting, with my guard down, it was not O.K. to have a 11 year old barrel into me at high speed.  She was wearing those absurd wheelie shoes and I didn't even see her coming.  And there's my mom, laughing at me, doing nothing to prevent me from becoming hopelessly ill because of the exposure.  I wanted to throw a coconut at her head. GAH.  

Later on, who knows if it was months or a couple years, I was in Walgreens.  Not exactly a hotspot for kids.  It's not like Dr. Scholls is a fad in the elementary schools.  Well I was waiting for my mom to finish getting a prescription when a little girl came out from a nearby aisle.  She had to be 4 or 5, but she was alone.  The movement came from behind me, so I startled and turned around.

This next part I "kid"* you not.  No lolz here.  

*pun intended

The girl, who I remember has being a brunette with blondish highlights wearing a purple floral dress, burst into tears.  Like full out, screaming hysterics when I looked at her.  And my mom, once again, was there to witness the whole thing.  

I just froze.  I mean, I didn't do anything.  But this girl was crying, full out, and I wasn't going to go near it, I mean--- Hadn't I done enough damage without trying?

In the next instant she turned on her heel and ran, screaming and crying, down the aisle that I assume she came from.  It was a horribly surreal, traumatizing experience that I don't want to relive ever again, even if that little brat had my own genes.

Especially if that brat had my own genes.

I'll watch my sisters have kids, and teach all my little nieces and nephews to love snakes and reptiles, just to piss my sisters off when they start bringing home garter snakes from outside---

and send the little brats back home when I'm done corrupting their young minds.

I kinda like that plan.