In my fertile days I would occasionally worry that I would only want kids after it was too late. What if the last egg traveled down the tube and set off a Rube Goldberg mechanism that unblocked a river of maternal urges? What would happen then?
Of course I planned for what would happen then: I’d wait till Saturday morning, go to Walmart, take a seat, and spend a few hours listening to the hellscape symphony of crying, screaming, and fighting, backed by a steady rhythm of “Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!” That’d dry up the maternal urges.
Well, as it turns out, I won’t need to leave my house at all. All I’ll need to do is rent The Babadook.
It’s a scary movie. But what tips it toward Exorcist or Omen levels is the freaking terrifying child. Take The Exorcist, and replace the one awkward astronaut scene (“You’re gonna to die up there”) with five scenes of this kid creeping people out. The Mom reacts with increasing impatience and exhaustion.
It’s a pretty good example of how I imagine motherhood. My kids would be cheerfully creepy and destructive, and it would take me about 90 minutes to lose my mind.
3 responses to “How To Supress Your Uterus”
Or you could come here and listen to my kids bicker over chores. That’ll tie your tubes for ya…
Ha ha! the trick is not to have children but to have only grandchildren.
suburbancorrespondent, whose kids have raised bickering to a fine art – You know, I don’t think bickering would bother me, since Gary and I do that as a matter of course. It’s the way there’s always a child who looks at everything the parents stand for and value and goes off to be exactly the opposite of someone the parents might like.
Hattie – Or nieces, dont you think?