It’s the animal instinct

I want a baby. Funny how I should think this way when I don’t even like kids in the first place, the way they’re always screaming and running around the place, or rotting in front of TVs and their Gameboy Advance. But I want a baby. Not right now of course, but sometime in the future, whether or not I get married to anyone.

I felt this when I walked into this baby store at Rockwell to buy a present for a cousin who was being baptized that morning. Cribs, walkers, teethers, blankets, bottles, toys everywhere. The amount of baby paraphernalia available is amazing. My mom said that when I was born, she had to get her baby stuff from the States, and they weren’t even as nice as the ones they had in that store. I even saw the cutest rocking horse, complete with fur, reins, and everything. And I wished I had a son, daughter, or baby sister or brother I could buy that rocking horse for. Or a crib to decorate with pink or blue blankets or a room to fill up with toys. It’s a total bummer that my mom can’t have kids anymore. If I had another brother or sister, s/he’d be damn spoiled by me. I’d get him/her clothes or toys with my spare money and bring home candy every weekend, on the condition s/he they doesn’t spend too much time in front of the TV. And when s/he grows up I’ll treat him/her like a friend and impart what little knowledge I have about life and not dictate what to do or not to do. That’s my mother’s job.

Of course, I know that raising a child isn’t as easy as I’m making it out to be. But yeah. I want kids.