We see bunnies everywhere we go, at Bacara, where he took me for a sunset cocktail, at the commerce center in Thousand Oaks where we had a cup of coffee with the nephew's father, in the yard at the restaurant in Ventura.
"What do they mean?" he asked.
"Procreation?" I guessed, and we both groaned. Neither of us want kids, or, as I like to say to the people who react in horror, "now. I don't want to have kids now. I don't know what I'm going to want in the future." Ambivalence is not a sought-after parental quality.
I know people who WANT CHILDREN, who have always WANTED KIDS, whose entire existence becomes dedicated to HAVING ONE, and I ..... do not feel that way.
If I'm going to bring up the topic of having kids, the most excited I'll get about it is by saying, "I don't know if I would have an abortion if I got pregnant with your kid."
But for the people who want them, for those who have them, more power to ye. I look forward to spoiling yours and handing them back, high on sugar and gifts, soon thereafter.
There's a quote on a poster posted in the bathroom of my yoga studio, a poster full of platitudes and advice, and one of them goes a little something like, "Just like you didn't know what an orgasm was before you had one, you can't know what it's like to have children until you have your own. Children are the orgasm of life."
"That's like the motto for a pedophile convention," I told the boyfriend. He agreed.
