Too Risky Not To

When I was about 13 I decided I never wanted kids. Ever. Period. You are probably saying to yourself “Gee, that seems a bit impulsive and irrational.” Well, teenagers make impulsive and irrational decisions from time to time. But to me my decision was neither. I declared my vagina to be a pleasure zone only and not a tunnel for future life.

Some people are just “kid people.” They love any child no matter how much he or she resembles demon spawn. I was (and still aren’t.) one of those people. To me, kids were just loud, obnoxious creatures that ruined a good movie or a quiet dinner out. So, why’d I change my mind?

Well, the seed of doubt planted its self in my brain when I decided to work as a camp counselor when I was 15. You’re likely thinking “Why the hell would you want to take care of children?” It was a job of convenience: it was close by, the pay was decent and it required absolutely no prerequisites other than that you haven’t committed a felony.

That summer I patched up bloody knees, tied countless shoes, and broke up fights usually involving sand throwing and slapping. Oh, did I mention these were three and four year old boys and girls? If they were bad then, I couldn’t imagine what’d those trolls would be like when they could properly formulate a sentence let alone have some power behind their right hook.

I did learn one valuable thing: Not all of them were monsters. There were some (be it few) that were actually sweet, polite and caring to their fellow toddlers. This mostly had to do with decent parenting (i.e.