I hate them.
In the days I was working minimum wage I hated people who earned over $40,000 a year. Smug, selfish bastards who should be giving people like me a hand instead of buying espresso-stained living room sets from Crate and Barrel, I cursed in my head.
Although I don't earn any salary, I am the humbled owner of an espresso-stained living room set from Crate and Barrel. It was on clearance sale! And it was the display set! Don't hate me.
In the days I was overweight and binging on chocolate as my anti-depressant of choice I used to loathe skinny girls. Smug, self-satisfied biatches who think they're so great just because they wear a size 2 and still eat cheeseburgers and milkshakes, I cursed.
And now I am the humbled wearer of size 2 jeans that stay buttoned whilst I consume cheeseburgers and milkshakes. Don't hate me. Seriously, all clothing sizes have been modified for vanity's sake since 1990 so, really, my jeans are probably the equivalent of a size 6 in 1992. I'm just not that depressed anymore, ok? That's all. And big is beautiful too...
And I could go on and on about the multiple categories of people I hated, loathed, cursed, and derided in my petty little mind, only to find myself "one of them." [
Insert commentary here with the word "chagrin" worked in and something about God having a sense of humor.]
But the category I dread falling into the most is the one of Mother.
I've always had a special dark little hole in my heart for mothers, especially expectant ones.
Who do they think they are? Demanding special treatment just because they're pregnant. Totally absorbed in every little burp and slurp that comes out of the various orifices of their infant. Finding various ways of displaying as many pictures of their precious bundle of joy as they can. On their desk, on their walls, on their blogs, on and on and on.
WE DON'T CARE! We don't want to talk about junior all the live-long-day. We don't want your precious bundle monopolizing the conversation when we're having lunch or coffee. We don't give a flip about your pride and joy anywhere NEAR the magnitude that you do! It's a kid. Like any billion number of kids on this earth. Its no more and no less special than any other human being, despite your obviously biased perspective.
Oh God, this will be the largest most disgusting slice of humble pie I will have to eat now that I'm pretty committed to having children. I never wanted to have kids but apparently, you have to take into account the preferences of another party when you're married. At least I have a few years to prepare myself mentally.
And now that I have officially alienated all my friends with kids or are planning to have kids in the near future, let me just say: Present company accepted! I didn't mean YOU, I meant THEM.
