I hate asshole parents. Asshole parents who think their child is a “special snowflake”, “spirited” (my particular favorite), or, and OMG excuse me while I barf over this one, “Indigo”.

YOU ARE THE REASON YOUR KID IS AN ASSHOLE.

Kids only know what they’re taught. If you teach them they are super-special, unique, above the rules, or otherwise entitled, YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOUR CHILD. You are SERIOUSLY contributing to the plethora of thirty-five year olds living in basements.

Just stop.

Well, several reasons, young padawan. First and foremost, I’m not interested. Yes, I know you’ve been trained up to think all women want kids, but that’s actually not true. There are many of us who just don’t fucking care. So, there. We may or may not like kids, but we don’t want our own. Get over it.

Second, family history. MY family is a trainwreck of alcoholics; my late husband’s was a trainwreck of mental illness and fail. He killed himself at the age of 35. Imagine what my life would have been like had I had a child with him. Said kid would have been 2 or 3 at the time. NOPE. How can I tell my child, “Daddy had mental health issues and you may too, but hey, you’ll be okay”. NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. And, NOPE. And don’t tell me it’s not genetic. You have NOT met his family. I have and that shit is TOTALLY genetic. No lie.

I ALWAYS said, if I REALLY wanted to be a parent, I’d adopt. The fact that I’m 48 and haven’t kind of tells you that no, I do NOT want to be a parent. NOPE.

If that’s your thing, go for it. Just stop acting like there is something wrong with me because I have no interest.

Life choices. Deal with it.

I’m not even kidding. I DID follow my dad around and watch him work when I was a kid, but I never got beyond the stage of, “Hand me that wrench”.

Still, somehow, I learned a thing or two. Plus, I suspect I’m just naturally handy. In the six years I had my condo, I:

• rewired all the outlets – like, seriously, I would plug in the vacuum and the plug would LITERALLY fall out of the wall. NOPE. Also, ALMOND? How 1975 (okay, it was built in like ’77, so…) I went white.

• put in new light fixtures. Honestly, the hardest part of this process is to MAKE SURE THE ELECTRICITY IS TURNED OFF. No lie.

• fixed drywall. Okay, I’ll admit, I suck at this. But it was in a closet where I was going to install a stackable washer and dryer. It was a good place to try. I think my problem in this endeavor is that I completely lack the patience it requires to make this look good. Okay, well, I know my limitations now. I’ll hire that out in the future.

• replacing faucets. This is SUPER easy, provided you are part snake and can get under the sink. My back hurt for two days, but fuck it…I did it. Bathroom AND kitchen.

• painting. I ROCK at this. Seriously, tape is for amateurs. Get yourself a good angle brush and go to work on the trim. I painted a 900+ square foot condo over the course of probably a year, and it. Was. AWESOME. I even ripped off the cabinet doors (word to the wise, label them so you know where they go; they may all look the same, but they are NOT) AND even filled in the holes the previous owner made to put in unnecessary pulls. Those fuckers looked AWESOME.

I LOVED that fixer-upper project, but I’m too old and lazy to do it again. Now I rent and tsk tsk when someone else does it. LOL