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22 April 2013 @ 01:28 pm
Mothers, please stop congratulating yourselves.  
When your boyfriend accidentally pulled out too late, magically assisting in the production of the soon-to-be glorified spawn/condom and birth control failure, it would be hard to refer to it as a "blessing", much less thank your god over and over again for the so-called wonderful gift. But you do it anyway. Why, I don't fucking know. When you get the hang of motherhood, to finally be a full-fledged mom, that doesn't necessarily mean you've become a better or more mature person all of a fucking sudden. It simply means you are picking up after your OWN mess. So when you claim to have grown to be more responsible and devoted by putting your children's needs before your own, I might as well drink the night away within inches of comatose, puke all over the fucking carpet, vacuum it afterwards, so that in the morning after I can proclaim myself to be the greatest domestic goddess a carpet has seen. So unless you're about 99.9% certain that your child will grow up to be the next pioneer to the advancement of cancer cure researches, shut it with the maturity drivel and, for the sake of humanity, stop strutting around as if you've done a service to the world by popping out your crotchfruit. After all, spreading your legs without bothering with condoms or the pill hardly amounts to a fucking miracle.

How, I wonder, can a child suddenly transform her mother into a somewhat better person in a general sense? From experience, I've often been given reason to assume the contrary is true. For instance, there was this time when my sister and I decided to go to the mall. Because commercial establishments often impose tight security on the public to avoid bombings and other attacks, we had to get in line upon entry for security checks which involved prying our bags open and our pockets being searched. If you use your imagination a little, this security routine poses congestion upon the entries and other patience-pushing threats. Well, one mother, who after being checked decided to tarry longer at the entry point, caused the traffic flow to slow down by standing there and hollering at her child who went to run around like an escaped ape. Completely unaware of the inconvenience she's causing, she hollered and hollered until it was about time for my sister's patience to snap. Sure enough, lovely sister boomed at the mother, "Will you get out of the way? People are being delayed because of you." The woman then flared up, indignantly, "Can't you see I have a child with me?" And so the scene got heated, with my sister spitting something back which sounded very much like, "If you can't contain your child then why have him in the first place when both of you are just gonna do a disservice to the world?" My sister then stalked off, leaving the mother incensed. You see, an average human being produces X amount of wastes in his lifetime, thereby adding weight to the already sinking ship that this world is, and worse there's always this too huge a possibility that he might be an asshole at some point in his life. But still you insist that bringing one of his type in this world makes you a better person. When you push a fucking pram on the fucking narrow hallway and walk at the speed of a fucking snail while other people behind you are stumbling on their steps trying to catch the next train, they have all the right to yell at you to move the fuck out of the way. If you so much as assume that the child you're pushing merits you the excuse to call the other person an asshole for being so inconsiderate, then you are the asshole. Why? Because, in the first place, if you hadn't allowed your partner to stick his condomless penis inside your unthinking birth canal, people on the streets wouldn't be running late to their appointments. They wouldn't have to deal with your screaming child who cannot be fucking made to shut up. When I'm trying to have a nice dinner at a restaurant and your fucking ugly littler girl keeps on kicking my chair, please don't be shocked if I give you, her parents, the death glare, because, again, a fucking condom is not so hard to use.