Having kids is not all it’s cracked up to be.
For one thing, you have a tiny human being in your house. This is almost as bizarre as having an animal in your house, but at least animals have fur. All my son has is tons and tons of drool.
For the most part it’s fun to have him around, except of course for the drain on my finances, the stress on my marriage, the elimination of my social life, the inability to sleep, the constant threat of fecal explosion, etc. It’s actually very much like running a farm; at the beginning there was even milking.
I know this is old news; everyone’s already aware that kids are a drag. But not all kids are a drag in the same ways.
Here, then, is a list of things that make me hate my son, and my son only.
1. He makes everything more important. Work, money, food, health, free time. Everything means more now. I need to work harder to make more money to buy more food. More expensive, healthy food that won’t make him get fat and get diabetes. I have to eat healthier too, and I have to exercise so I don’t get fat and have a heart attack. Free time is no longer free, it’s time to spend with him, and I need more of it because he needs more of me, and I can’t go to the movies or to the bar because he can’t come and I can’t watch the stuff I want to watch when he’s around because it might make him kill people so I have to make sure he watches the proper stuff which just gives me a headache and I can’t let him watch too much because he has to go outside and oh my god there’s just so much to think about get out of my HEAD SCHWARTZ!
2. He’s better looking than me. Which is funny, because everyone tells me how much we look alike. But it’s clear he blows me away, just by virtue of being younger and not having bags under his eyes or a scowl on his face. I’ve never in my life gotten as many compliments as this kid. I mean, the dude’s a chick magnet, and it’s a lot of fun to get all this attention from the ladies, but not that fun since I’m married and he’s a long way from puberty. It’s like having a superpower you can’t use. I feel like Mr. Incredible, except when he’s fat and hates his life.
3. My wife likes him more than me. Every husband knows this is true. Ask Oedipus.
4. He reminds me of my mortality. Everyone tells you that having a kid around teaches you to see old things as new again; reinvigorates your perspective on life; lets you experience things through a child’s eyes. All it has taught me is that I’ve wasted my life and I’m 35 going on 60 and apparently that’s gonna happen in the blink of an eye since having kids somehow accelerates time, according to every single parent I’ve ever met. Great. So I’m old, and I’m getting older, and he’s in my face with his wasted, idiotic youth all the time, AND soon he’ll be 25 and I’ll be dead. Parenting!
5. My parents like him more than me. He’s their only grandson and they don’t remember what he was like as a teenager because he’s only two. I, on the other hand, revert to being a teenager with every visit home. Advantage: grandson.
6. He gets terrible music stuck in my head. I defy you to hear “A Song About Elmo” and not be humming it all day long. And then there’s “Yo Gabba Gabba!” At first you’re like, oh, a hipster show for kids, maybe the music will be tolerable! And then you can’t stop singing “Try it! You’ll like it! TRY IT AND YOU’LL LIKE IT!” to yourself over and over and over and over. I don’t blame the shows themselves; they are what they are. I blame my son. He did this to me. Thankfully I got a little payback – he’s been humming “Call Me Maybe” for weeks. REVENGE.
7. Everyone likes him more than me. Honestly, this kid is a charmer. It’s gross. He has more social skills than I’ve ever had. I can barely go two minutes without insulting someone; this kid has gang members blowing kisses on the F train. The last time I blew a kiss at a gang member, well…let’s just say I’m lucky I was still able to have a kid.
8. He makes drinking/being hungover/going to the movies/going to dinner/sleeping everything harder. He makes every adult-based and/or private and/or quiet activity harder. I can’t get drunk when he’s around, and even when he’s not around, he will be the next morning, when the cure for a hangover is NOT his Elmo guitar in my face. I can’t sleep late when he’s around alive. I can’t go to the movies or dinner with him, which means I need a babysitter, and last week we scared off our best one when we came home drunk. He just makes life harder. More rewarding? More meaningful? Sure, whatever. I just want to get drunk in peace. Is that a crime?
9. I like him more than me. He’s a better person. It’s just a fact. Even though he’s still stained with Original Sin! BETTER PERSON THAN ME.
10. He makes everything less important. Who gives a shit about going to the movies or watching Breaking Bad? I could sit and stare at my son all night long and that would be entertainment enough. I mean, ALL HE DOES is fall on his face. It’s hilarious. He has 100% ruined my life, yes, but that was my old life and this is my new one (a fact that is both pathetic and, frankly, kind of necessary). He is my new one. I honestly couldn’t care less about myself anymore. Like I said above, he’s Me 2.0 and he’s better in every. single. way. Which makes me have to try and be better too.
Which, in all honesty, is a major pain in the ass.
Related post: The 10 Most Annoying Things About Kids