Leave my eggs alone I don't care if it's Easter!

Dear Everyone Who Keeps Telling Me to Have Kids:

Listen, I know I'd be a good mother. I've got the chops and instinct to pay attention to the important stuff and ignore that stupid stuff and I get the whole they don't need a friend until they're 22 and you go on an Alaskan cruise as two care-free pals thing. I know I was a pre-school teacher and a damn good one at that and I learned a lot about little kids and what it takes to care for them but here's the thing. THEY'RE A PAIN IN THE ASS.

Kids stink. They stink bad. They have this funk that comes off of them like steam from a turd. They're weird. They have mush for brains and do dumb things like walk over to you and wipe dog slobber from their face all over your new shirt that you just fucking put on because they think it's funny but hell no it wasn't funny and now Auntie Betty is a bit miffed and yelled at you a little Merry Christmas.

They are demanding. My GOD are they demanding. Watch me, Mommy, watch me, watch me now, Mommy, MOMMMMMM-MMMMMYYYYYY WATCH ME WATCH WATCH ME DO WHAT I CAN DO. ~jump~ Well for chrissakes, that's what you wanted me to see? That's just super I'm so glad I ran out of the shower with shampoo in my hair for that. And the screaming. WTF is up with all the screaming? Decibels that would shatter glass! Hey, ya little smelly bullhorn, I'm right in front of you!! SHADDAP.

I do not have a ticking biological clock. I never have. I was a terrible babysitter. I ate all of your food and didn't care what your kids were doing with those knives and I went through all of your shit trying to find the porn. I do not have the patience to sit down on the floor and play vroom vroom cars for 18 hours. I do not want to rock you to sleep for 3 days straight while you howl in my ear. I do not want to clean 12,942 shitty diapers.

I am old. I am out of shape. I like my afternoon naps. I do not need to care for another living thing to show me how selfish I was or to give unconditional love to an entire human being I'm solely responsible for. I have a forgetful boyfriend, a blind cat and another one who pukes every god damn day to deal with. Holding a baby for 20 minutes does not make me ovulate. You know what it does? It makes my arms cramp.

If you have kids, if you always wanted them, if it's the best thing that ever happened to you. Great. I'm so glad you're having a ball. But friends and strangers alike, the next person to give me the reproduction lecture gets a boot in the box.

I give you one final warning. Stay out of my uterus. It's closed. Permanently.