If you’re childless like me, you may feel left out this Sunday. You might get that gnawing feeling that you missed out on joint custody, dealing with your children’s stepmother(s), half siblings, her parents, his parents, raising those little bundles of joy all on your own.
It’s enough to make one contemplate ending it all. If you feel that you’ve missed out on the mommy track, offer to baby sit for two weeks straight and keep a journal of the joys of watching your friend’s twins, Ebony and Ivory.
After that, volunteer at your local high school to further document what you’ll be missing out on. Sure, you’ll hear, “You’d feel different if they were your own children.”
This may or may not be true, but a smile on your face is guaranteed, when you get done with your little experiment and get to kick off your Skechers and enjoy a nice glass of wine knowing that you don’t have to get up Saturday morning and canvas the neighborhood as the designated driver for the kid’s soccer game, dance glass, gymnastics, little league, Pop Warner, swimming and/or whatever the little tykes have scheduled on their black berries.
And you’ll sleep well at night knowing that if your phone rings in the dead of night you won’t hear, “Hi, Mom. I get one phone call and I picked you.”
If you’re still tripping, watch You Tube for twenty-four-hours straight. If that doesn’t work, don’t despair, with new fertility advances, you could still be a parent well into your sixties. Wouldn’t that be a blast?
Just think, when your little tyke runs into to the house out of breath, you can give him a hit from your oxygen tank.