Monday, June 07, 2010


I have never been more disturbed or terrified by the idea of giving birth than I am right now. Mostly because of the whole having-to-force-something-the-size-of-a-watermelon-through-my-vagina thing, and partly due to photos like this and the possibility that they could be real. But also because I have made an interesting discovery as of late. Are you ready for it? Here it comes:
I am going to be a terrible mother.

And I'm not even being hard on myself. Let's look at the facts:

1) Food-wise, I can only master two things: Italian, and baked goods.
Or as I like to call them, baked greats. Still. Chocolate chip cookies and spaghetti for dinner? Every night? My kids are gonna be fat. And not ph fat. Regular fat.
2) I don't know shit about science.
Kids are ALWAYS asking questions about science. Why is the sky blue? Why is the grass green? How do telephones work? Why is Mummy's hair falling out? I'm the girl who almost failed Year 10 Science, okay? I don't know shit about science. I don't know shit about shit! And on that note...
3) I swear too much.
Really, does anyone want their child's first word to be a curse? Fuck no! Plus I think the fact that I'm perfectly content to sit and stew and do nothing about this makes me a terrible person. Amused and happy, but terrible. Also,
4) I have weird theories that I'm constantly trying to force on other people.
Not The Celebrity Doppelganger Theory. Once the rest of the world catches on, my offpring'll be living off the benefits from that for years. But while it's okay for me to know better, I'd just feel bad for any Australian kid who avoided the ocean every summer for fear of being attacked by gang-rapist dolphins. Even if they are real and a legitimate danger. And finally,
5) I plan on naming my first son 'Wentworth'.
And while I think it's nice, others disagree and I'm an idiot. Wentworth? How long do you think it'll take him to get bashed in the schoolyard? 5 minutes? 6?

I rest my case. I'm not saying I'll be abusive or neglectful or one of those parents who forgets their daughter's allergy and sends her to school with a peanut butter sandwich (*cough* Phillip Trew *cough*), I'm just saying that if sanity and any vestige of common sense were prerequisites for having children...I probably wouldn't be getting any. Since they aren't though, I'll probably end up with 5. Gold.

On a completely different note, I had a minor celebrity-sighting on Saturday morning when Tony Abbott had coffee at the cafe next to my work. At least I would have, had I actually known who Tony Abbott was. Luckily, one of our clients who was waiting for a shampoo and haircut was perfectly willing to fill me in. Granted, he made me feel like a complete idiot while doing so ("Tony Abbott. The future Prime Minister of this country?"), but still. And while I'm enough of an ignorant asshole that I couldn't really tell you the difference (politically) between Kevin Rudd and this Tony guy, it's nice to know our next possible PM doesn't resemble the O RLY? Owl:

You know I'm right.

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