Read the title and do just that. There should literally be nothing else to read. But because so many of you egomaniacs want likes on Instagram by exploiting your offspring, I have to explain this concept thoroughly. And before I start, this has nothing to do with marriage. Go get married at eighteen for all I care because guess what? That’s two adult humans making irrational decisions on their own, not forcing some sentient being into the world to be cared for and taught right and wrong from a used car salesman and a wannabe Instagram influencer. Most twenty-year-olds can’t even spell “lose” correctly.
Why would you have a child at an age where doing taxes yourself is still a struggle? Well, there are two categories of people at work here. The first are those who have a deep religious faith and believe once you get married your sole purpose on life is to start producing children that won’t be able to afford homes due to crippling student loan debt. I won’t say any more on this population because if that’s your prerogative, then power to you.
The second category of individuals here I like to call, “Oops, Guess We’re Keeping It”. Religion tends to play a role here as well, but often it’s the “Cafeteria Christian Crowd” so I have no qualms calling them out on their hypocrisy. Like c’mon, homosexuality is a sin but getting a hand job at church camp is kosher? We all know this couple. They probably met in the interim years between high school graduation and their first job after college. Fearing anything different, they moved five blocks away from their parents and reconnected at the local trash sports bar in town. Next thing you know, their Instagram feed begins pumping out cutesy pictures of the two together faster than an Amazon shipping warehouse. Indifference aside, a feeling of support may arise as these Hallmark-esque featurettes pass your eyes more frequently. Until one day, it happens. The ultrasound photo or the baby bump or whatever carefully planned disguise envelops their social media simply to make light of the fact that their life is over. “They look so happy, they’re in love!” you might say after your twelfth straight hour of “This is Us”. But look closely at what’s behind the eyes, the ambition, the drive, it’s all gone. The future looks bleak with only that yearly family vacation to Tampa to look forward to. Only one in four marriages survive in this country. Sorry to end your fairytale sweetheart, but don’t kill the messenger.
If you haven’t taken the time to look around to the possessed toddlers sprinting aimlessly in your nearest supermarket or nearly gone deaf from the wailing of an infant on board an aircraft, do so. Public places is the best contraception out there. Next time that your significant other brings up the idea of a child, take them out shopping. If the horde of rambunctious demon spawn raiding and pillaging the surrounding area don’t deter them, then just take a gander at the beaten down, disheveled parent sauntering after their child. You’ll know by the end of the day if this is the person you want to spend the rest of your life or even the rest of the week with.
Honestly, I know some of you out there are phenomenal parents and are in your twenties so don’t think this is directed at you. All I’m saying is maybe not every Chad and Stacy or Brad and Ally should procreate when their drink of choice is still jack and coke. Let’s wrap it up with some advice folks. Next time things are getting hot in heavy in the back of Honda Civic, pull up this blog and read out loud the first four words of the second to last sentence.