Wanted: One Empty Nest
I don’t have kids and I don’t want any. There…I said it.
That doesn’t mean that I’m kid “unfriendly” in a – “take them to a remote location and leave them for dead” kind of way – I would just prefer to view them from behind glass or some other safe enclosure. My mom used to tell me that she didn’t particularly like children. You would think that would suck a little since in fact, she had two – but in actuality it wasn’t that bad. My sister and I ended up with a mom who didn’t have to live vicariously through us – hanging on our every word, and telling her friends how smart we are because at 9 years old we managed to figure out the whole tooth fairy farce on our own. No – my mom is a realist, she believes in telling it like it is. I admire her for that.
When I was a kid the word “everyone” was a forbidden term. I used it frequently to expose her backward, hillbilly way of thinking. When I wanted a phone in my room – “everyone” had one but me. When I wanted to stay up past ten o’clock on a school night – “everyone” else was getting to. Everyone had a pool, everyone had bunk beds, and everyone had a mom who let them spend the night in a cemetery because it’s fun. I never got the penguin I wanted either.
My mother would just stand there calmly letting me ramble on with my evidence of “everyone,” before rolling her eyes and sighing… “Who exactly is everyone Melissa? How is it that you have come to know everyone hmm?? Then she would pull a National Geographic from the bookshelf and flip it open to the middle before shoving it under my nose. “How about these people here?? I suppose you believe that each one of them has a 1500 gallon salt water aquarium with sea otters as well? They don’t even have pants Melissa.”
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