Mean

I wish I didn't have to say no all the time.

No, you can't have a monkey. No, I'm not going to get you parrot this afternoon. No, you don't get a toy just because you've been good. All you get is my love and affection. No, you can't just grab at my breasts whenever you want to- especially not while I'm in line at the grocery store! You're almost five and I've got things I need to do. Just quit your fucking whining.

A couple of single girlfriends have told me that my tales from the trenches have been great cures for their nagging baby lust. Good. These little bastards will drain your wallet, steal your time, and suck your soul.

So, how come it is that I keep thinking about having another one?