It always surprises people when I tell them that I don't like children. It's not that I don't like being around them, which I do, I just don't like them. I don't like the noises they make. I don't like their need to be tended to. I certainly despise any kind of tantrums they create. I don't want them with me, around me, and near me. I could do without seeing kids ever. I also hate how everyone becomes so "aware" around them. I certainly detest how adults get around kids.

I always cringe when I am around a co-worker and they begin cooing about how cute a child is. Even though I appreciate a good confrontation, when it comes to kids, I tend to keep my mouth shut if asked "Isn't he adorable?" I hate that question because there really is only one answer expected; and I refuse to give it. Truth is, I don't believe it. No, I don't think they are cute. Oh, how cute is she? Not in the eyes of this beholder.

Whenever I don't answer the question of cuteness, I tend to get prodded or poked to answer. My standard answer is always "Hmmm." Not one of agreement or disagreement. Just "Hmmm." For the record, not all kids are cute. Some of them are ugly. Worse yet, some of them are just downright plain. It's a fact. Not everyone or everything is cute. Get over it.

I don't feel that I am mean for not thinking children are cute. Or adorable. Or even tolerable. Freedom of choice doesn't apply to just pregnancy. It is my choice and I have decided that I don't like them. I don't think that makes me a bad person. Now, if I punched the child in the face, sexually molested it, or kicked it in the stomach, that would make me a bad person. But I didn't do any of that. I just told you that I don't like them. I'm over it. You'll get over it too. Later.  ¶ 10:30 PM