Category Archives: Humor
So this list was originally written as a response to a rather persistent troll on another website, who tried to insist that the childfree (namely, me) are envious of her life as a grandmother (by her own admission, breeding is about all she ever did with her life,) and secretly regret being childfree. I won’t go into details on the attention-seeking troll who is clearly projecting, because it really doesn’t matter. My list of “regrets” was well-received among a few CF communities I’m part of, so I’ll post it here. (Warning: Snark.)
I regret that I know what I want out of life, and what I don’t. I regret that I have the ingenuity, intelligence, and courage to set my own course in life. I regret that I make solid plans and responsible decisions. I regret that I have and the motivation and will to do the right thing. I regret that I don’t just mindlessly follow the herd like any lazy, unimaginative cow.
I regret that I have done amazing, worthwhile things with my life. I regret that I’ve served my country proudly, gotten a pilot’s license, competed in and won art competitions, traveled the world, and generally do all the things most people only dream of, and all by the age of 24. Similarly, I deeply regret that my future remains bright and open, such that I can continue to do even more with my life. I regret that my life is one of freedom, accomplishment, and potential rather than conformity, monotony, and resignation.
I regret that I can say more about my life and how I lived it than “I bred.” I regret that I don’t have to desperately try to convince myself that breeding, which any rat can do, somehow counts as an accomplishment, that I haven’t just wasted my only life.
I regret having a healthy, fit, thin body, complete with perky (though admittedly small) breasts, an unmarred abdomen, and a tight vagina that has never been ripped apart. I regret that I maintain a youthful appearance, rather than appearing a full decade older due to the ravages of childbirth and tedium of parenting. I regret that I can dress fashionably, rather than in spit-up encrusted sweats, and that I can sport attractive hairstyles rather than “mom-cuts.”
I regret that I have the intelligence to figure out how birth control works, and therefore never had to go through pregnancy. I regret that I have never looked nor felt like a bloated whale. I regret not puking my guts out or pissing myself. I regret not being a burden on my employer or co-workers. I regret not having my insides ripped apart. I regret not shitting myself in a room full of on-lookers. And I regret not having nasty vaginal discharges before and after the delivery, just like I regret not pissing myself every time I sneeze or cough. I regret not looking or feeling like a deflated balloon.
I regret not being covered in the bodily fluids or wastes of useless sacks of human flesh. I also regret enjoying peaceful slumber every night, not interrupted by screeching shit-factories. I regret that I never have to listen to stomping feet, annoying babbling, stupid questions, constant demands, inane commentary, screaming, crying, or slamming doors. I regret living peacefully and unburdened.
I really regret having an actual healthy and happy relationship with my boyfriend, which I don’t have to blatantly lie about for the sake of appearances I regret that all of our sexual escapades are real, rather than fabricated for boasts that no one actually believes anyway. Yes, indeed, I regret that our relationship is not strained or destroyed by children, just as I regret the fact that we’re together because we want to be, rather than resentfully being stuck together “for the children.”
I regret having a well-paying, agreeable job, the earnings from which I actually get to keep rather than waste on children and their needs. I regret too that I actually get to work where I want, when I want, rather than having to structure (derail) my schedule and career path around children. I regret that I don’t have to take crappy jobs I don’t want due to the restrictions having children would inflict upon me, or their financial burden.
I regret that I live in a nice, large home, in a nice part of town, rather than having to settle for a smaller, less-appealing one due to budget constraints brought on by children. Yes, I regret being a home-owner at 23, and that I do not have to share my home with anyone, child or adult, other than my partner (no room-mates, like you have.) I also regret that my home is clean, and quiet, and that I can own nice things without worrying about them being broken.
I regret that I now type from my custom-built, high-performance gaming PC, which is neither covered in childen’s boogers, nor needs to be shared. I regret too that I keep my PC in my own home office, which has not been converted into a nursery. I regret that while all computers and capable consoles in our home connect to our wireless network, I only have my boyfriend to compete with.
I regret that I have a hot tub in my yard instead of some garish, plastic kinder-crap. I regret that my typical free-time resembles what other people consider a rare vacation treat. I also regret that I drive around in a classic sportscar, which enthusiasts often try to buy off me, rather than some ugly, mess-UV. I regret that I can just get in my car and go whenever I want, without having to deal with the hassle of kids and their accessories, or deal with their whining.
I regret that I never get calls from school about bullying or being bullied, about grades, or about attendance. I regret that I never have to pretend to care about lame school functions. I regret that my day doesn’t have to revolve around a school I don’t attend.
I regret that there is no one around to smash all breakable objects in the house, attempt to feed inappropriate items into disk drives, draw all over the walls, hit baseballs through my windows, flush toys down the toilet, or scratch up my car. I regret that there is no one around to steal my things or my money. I regret there is no one around to cause my car insurance to skyrocket in cost or to actually crash my car while borrowing it or “borrowing” it. I regret that I do not have to hide or lock up adult items in my home. I regret that I have no one for the police to return to my front door at 3am.
Yes, I regret that I’m not forcing new people into an ultimately doomed existence, perpetuating the cycle of misery, suffering, and death, to people I would, supposedly, love. I regret that I’m not forcing new people to live, knowing full well that they will die. I also regret that I’m not placing further burden on the world, hastening its destruction, for the sake my petty whims.
I regret that I actually have a life. I am productive and happy. I regret that I have friends and family, and that we get to talk about things that are actually interesting instead of tedious child news. I regret being successful. And I regret that I don’t have to troll pages where I clearly don’t belong just for attention.
Yes, moms who think I’m jealous of you, I regret being childfree and envy your existence. You go right ahead and believe that if it makes you feel better. I’ll just be here, laughing.
To the childfree, tell me, what do you “regret” about being childfree?
So, I do believe that everyone has heard about the tragic shooting in a Colorado movie theater at a midnight showing of the new Batman movie. The question on everyone’s lips is, “what the fuck were those parents thinking bringing their infant to the show?” (Nothing at all, would be my guess.) It’s not that anyone blames the parents for the child being injured in the shooting. We’re just amazed that the baby was there to be injured in the first place as it clearly didn’t belong there. It’s like hearing of an infant being injured in a fire at a strip club.
I’ve had my share of movies ruined by inconsiderate “parents” who drag their infants and young children into movie theaters, those young ones which then proceed to shriek through the whole show. Amazingly, such inept parents even drag kids out to R-rated movies and late shows (not that I appreciated my afternoon showing of Pixar’s Brave being ruined either.)Even if the baby is quiet (and a parent is kidding themselves if they think it will be) it isn’t going to be watching the move so there’s really no reason to bring it. And yet the babies are at shows anyway. The explanation seems simple, lazy, entitlement-minded, selfish, inconsiderate parents.
Of course, parents in such a category are quick to come up with excuses for their unacceptable behavior, even going so far as to seriously suggest that a baby will sleep peacefully through a loud action movie, as if anyone who reads such a ridiculous thing is so unfamiliar with babies that they’d actually buy that bullshit. Then those parents will wail that it’s so haaard to get a babysitter, as if that should be everyone else’s problem. (By the way, I’m amazed that these same parents who seriously insist that their infant will sleep quietly through a loud movie are the same people who will complain about their babies keeping them up at night to gain sympathy.)
Well, as a childfree person, I feel I can give good advice on parenting (I know enough about parenting to know better than to breed.) So, to all the oblivious “parents” out there who really think their little pweshus simply MUST see the new SAW movie, I’ve created a handy list here to clear up some confusion.
When is it OK to drag an infant to a movie theater?
When you’ve stuffed the baby’s gob so full of Ambien that it will be practically in a coma for the day
When you’ve rented out the theater for that showing and are the only people there
When you’ve bound and gagged the baby so it can’t bother anyone
When it’s an infant who was born without hands or vocal cords
When it’s not a baby, but one of those creepy Reborn dolls
When the theater management completely loses their minds, and sets aside special showings specifically for the purpose of being ruined by babies
When there’s a severe zombie outbreak and the theater happens to be the most convenient hide-out
When it’s just a home theater in your living room
When you’ve encased the baby in a sound-proof and smell-proof bubble
When you’re prepared to personally refund every last person in the audience their full ticket price, should your baby make a peep
And don’t forget to pay a full-price ticket for the baby, spray the stench-sack down with Fabreze, and either carry it in your lap or shove it under the chair so it doesn’t take up seats.
I almost don’t even know what to think when confronted by the term, “militantly childfree.” It’s just so ridiculous. All being childfree means is that individual does not want children, and thus chooses to never have them. How is it even possible to be militant about that? Do I stomp my feet while taking my birth control? Glare meaningfully at random children while buying condoms at the corner store? What?
How does a childfree atheist celebrate Easter?
Two very similar things happened on Twitter today. First, a prominent childfree tweeter asked: “If you are #childfree and have holy days this weekend, how do you celebrate Easter or Passover?“ Later, I noticed a tweet by a total maniac asking a similar question (which he proceeded to answer himself): “What do atheists celebrate while others enjoy Easter & Passover? NOTHING!”
I find these questions interesting. Easter, much like Christmas, while having completely optional and easily avoidable ties to religion, aren’t so much religious holidays as they are cultural ones. Christmas is especially interesting as a so-called “Christian” holiday considering its pagan roots. Even various Easter traditions, like eggs and hares, are taken from the traditions of other religions and have nothing to do with Christianity. Here in the US, both Christmas and Easter are heavily marketed and celebrated as secular events, rather than strictly religious dates. So it’s very interesting when Christians try to claim ownership of them.
As for not having children, I see now reason why that should impede my ability to celebrate. I believe that the idea that children are necessary for a day to be worth celebration can be blamed partially on marketing. Kids want stuff, stuff costs money, buy this stuff for the holiday. Have you seen some of these Christmas lists kids write, or these insanely huge Easter baskets? Additionally, when we were kids ourselves we remember receiving such gifts and having things be made very child-friendly by our own parents and the culture at large, so we naturally associate the days with children.
As it happens, being childfree and atheist has allowed me to have more fun on Easter than I would have had otherwise. I don’t have to waste my time in church, for one thing, an advantage of being atheist. And I don’t have to throw a fit over trying to cram Jesus in between the far-more-interesting plastic toys and chocolate bunnies. Additionally, since I don’t have kids, I can spend a lot more time, effort, and money making a holiday, yes, even Easter, more enjoyable for myself and my partner.
So, how does a childfree atheist celebrate Easter?
Well, my first Easter as a full, open atheist was spent in Iraq. Honestly though, being an atheist didn’t make much of a difference as Easters back home were never really religious. Easter was always about candy and fun. That Iraq Easter, My mother sent me a care package containing two big-eared, hollow chocolate bunnies – MY FAVORITE! Regrettably, as it was 130 degrees Fahrenheit on any given day, and the mail was kept in what is basically a giant, metal oven, what I received in my care-package was nothing more than two chocolate puddles. Well, it’s the thought that counts, right? My mom and I still laugh over that little mistake.
On another Easter, my last in the Army, I volunteered with my company to help stuff eggs for an Easter-egg hunt for local children (you know, because as a childfree person, I just HATE children, right?) I even put some money, my own, in rare, gold-colored eggs. Unfortunately, I was not able to attend the event myself (at the time of the event, I was just getting off a 24-hour staff duty shift at battalion,) but I hear that there was much fun had by all.
This Easter, I put together a nice gift basket for the child of a friend of mine (again, I am clearly an evil, child-hating witch.) I filled it with candy and toys. I put some spare change in some plastic Easter-eggs for him, as I knew he was saving money in a coin jar to buy some Legos (coins are how his parents reward him for good behavior, and allowing him to save up to buy things teaches him the value of money.) I even got him one of those hollow, big-ears, chocolate bunnies I always loved getting from my mom. It was entirely too much sugar for the kid, so his mother has control of how much candy he was allowed to eat at a time. I think that what I gave him should last a while.
One more nice thing: being Childfree allows me to celebrate Easter as an adult, if I like. And I only have one person that I have to share my candy with. I can enjoy nice things for myself and play any games that I want. And being atheist allows me to do so without the need of irrational guilt over not involving Jesus in some way. . So how am I celebrating Easter? Well, here’s a hint:
Enjoy your Easter.
Edit: My Easter didn’t quite go as planned. I got unexpectedly called in to work because someone else called off.The deviled eggs and pineapple ham I planned to make for Easter will have to wait, I guess.
When my boyfriend got home, he found eggs hidden all over his room again, as well as a lovely basket sitting on his desk. That’s a nice thing to come home to when getting off work, I think. He waited for me to get home to find all of the hidden eggs.
I had three gold eggs, which were better hidden than the others. Each of the gold eggs was filled with chocolate coins, but that wasn’t what made them special. Each of these gold eggs contained a special coupon. Kisses, backrubs, etc.
According to BabyCenter.com, for the cost of about $200,000 over 18 years, I can afford just one baby (without mooching off the government and taking funds away from people with actual need.) $200,000, and that’s in 2010 value (not accounting for future inflation) and at 2010 average costs of child-rearing. And that’s not even including college tuition. $200,000! 200k just to afford one baby.
OR I can use that money to do things that I will actually enjoy and thereby have a nicer life than I would otherwise. Additionally, I could use that money to help other people in need do the same for themselves. Yeah, instead of losing money and making my life and the world worse, I can keep my money and make my life and the world better.
Why don’t I want to have kids? Because I can do math. Pretty simple decision, really.
Incidentally, I feel much better about the amount of money I spend taking the boyfriend out to dinner every now and then, considering how much we’re saving by being childfree.