113508503237352140

Oh boy! This is a group I might actually join and devote myself to. I wonder if I can do it and still be loved by my breeding family members and friends? And before anyone makes a snide remark about being child-free at 44, I could have had plenty of kids and can still. I prefer my unhealthy obsession with dogs. They eat the same food twice a day, on the floor, out of dirty bowls and think we’re just the best.

5 comments to 113508503237352140

  • I’ll still love you if you join BNOB, as long as you still call yourself “Auntie Sharbles” for little Mergetroid (or whatever his name winds up being)…

    đŸ˜‰ hannaw

  • Well you and most of my dearest friends already understand that I have reserved all my love *only* for the children of my friends and family. To be honest, I pretty much drop the whole charade whenever someone introduces me to their child, but the sphere of acceptance still remains pretty damn small. There are some amazing kids in that circle, too.

  • Hey, you’re farther along than me. I don’t even like the kids of my friends, and I only like my own kid about 98% of the time. (Does that not make it Dove pure?)

  • Menopause can’t come soon enough, and then when people ask if I don’t have children I can just make sad big eyes and let them read whatever they want into it. When secretly inside I’m thinking, “HELL no, I don’t have kids! I have my SANITY!”

  • Yeah, and what is the usual reply? “Oh and you would be such a good mom!”

    Oh really? Wouldn’t a good mom WANT to have kids?

    Then again, wait until I post the sound file I got the day after Christmas (I know, I know, Happy Hannukah). It’s a recording of my niece saying, “Thank you Aunt Shauwee!”

    It sounds just as good the first time as the 11th.