Tuesday, May 12, 2015

My Unborn Children

The other night Tomais was fixing up his new hangar at New Horizons Airport while Kahvy helped him with door scripts and I stood around helping by merely being my beautiful self.

Somehow the conversation turned to parenting, which I of course am an expert in. Well, at least in theory even if not so much in practice. If you ask me, I actually do believe I could give even Supernanny some constructive criticism and a pointer or two or three on parenting skills...
The conversation has stuck with me afterwards and has made me remember how I, in my mid-teens, used to imagine being a father and having kids, but even then there was somehow never a mother around in my imaginary family. (This was of course before I realized I was a full-blown Kinsey type 6.) I had even decided on names for my kids, the son would be named Simon and the daughter Tekla.

Being childless is perhaps the only thing that frustrates me from time to time, especially now when I can see how my mother is helped and supported by her doting children and grandchildren. I imagine myself relying on the kindness of strangers when I get old and incapacitated and that doesn't feel very reassuring at times. Although I imagine my nieces and nephews and their kids in turn could possibly be guilted into taking turns to invite me over for Christmas dinner, with the promise of being written into my will.

At other times, I am completely comfortable with with being childless and relieved that I never took on that challenge as I believe I would have been an utterly horrible father, as evidenced by my miserable failure as a step father in the virtual world.

Nonetheless, it is to late now to do anything about it and I have resigned myself to the fact that there will be no issue from my loins or from a turkey baster. Instead I try to pass on "my names" to every pregnant mother or soon-to-be father who happen to cross my ways.

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