Mark my words: having a child is like gambling away your sanity while being blindfolded.
Sure,you can do your best to try and mold a beautiful human being, but creation has its habit of surpassing the "depth and breadth and height" originally imposed by its master.
In other words,you can get anything ranging from an angel to an asshole.
Me?I think I'm somewhere in between.I'll have my days of "domestic martyrdom" and general fluffiness towards my family,but most of the time I'm just miserable,lazy and deeply lost in an existential crisis only I understand (apparently).
For example,mom is in the kitchen right now,toiling away to prepare food for Easter (which is tomorrow-hey,who knew?!) and I'm here in my room,writing about silly things that no one cares about (including me sometimes,to be honest).
As much as I want to help her,1.I don't think she wants me to (she gets possessive like that with the kitchen) and 2.you couldn't get me to move right now even if you used a crane.
See,you're gambling with the outcome,each child at a time!
Ugh,when will I ever learn to behave like a "normal" human being...
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