Do you have a perfect, adorable child? Or even…two? Do you have a six-foot wide stroller you’ve nicknamed “the battering ram”? Have you taken a professional portrait breastfeeding two angels at once while floating on a cloud made of cotton? If not, then get the fuck out of my way because I have two precious darlings who are jonesing hard for a matcha latte!
Where are you even going, Little Miss Huffs-a-lot? I’m sure you have super important things going on in your selfish little life that doesn’t have the unconditional love of a child to a mother in it. No, you’re probably on your way to a meth party with other childless hookers. I used to love the club life, too, but then I grew up. Now I have responsibilities. Oh I’m sorry, you’re going to work? Well, Credenzah and Luufah Bear need me to get them to play dates with a state senator’s children, so I think my sidewalk journey is a liiiiiiitle more important than yours. Maybe if you wanted to use this public sidewalk, you should have thought a little harder about conceiving two children first?
I didn’t just give birth to two perfect humans—I birthed purpose, freedom, and the American way. My children will probably become co-presidents, or cure cancer, or appear on Dancing with the Stars before you even develop the ability to walk on a sidewalk correctly. What this means is that I need to get to their next developmental milestone. Thanks to me strolling Credenzah to her Crayon Excellence tutor, she’s coloring at a fifth-grade level. So if I have to stop my stroller for you to go to your pathetic job, my children will suffer. Go tell that to your “boss”, you childless scum.
Okay, so…do you want me to stroll into oncoming traffic? Do you? Because when you don’t leave my path, that’s what you’re FORCING me to do—drive my kids, whom I nourished in my surrogate’s belly for nine fucking months, into speeding cars so that we all DIE. Do you want that? Do you?
Why do you hate children? Is it because you’re barren and bitter? It takes a special kind of no-soul demon to MAKE ME dodge a taxicab so that you can use the sidewalk. Motherhood is already the hardest job in the world; even harder than “social worker” or whatever you called it.
Remember: You had a mother too, you know. And I bet she had another child, too.
Even though they’re only 14 months and 97 months, respectively, Credenzah and Luufah Bear are the most important people on Earth. As such, I am a mama bear, and I will growl if you try to inconvenience us for even one second by selfishly using the sidewalk. Talk to me when you’ve had two high-achieving children and maybe you’ll understand. Blah, blah, you’re a doctor and you have to save people’s lives—I SUPPLIED THE WORLD WITH TWO BABIES. YOU WOULDN’T HAVE A JOB IF NOT FOR MOMS! So get your s-h-i-t together, and start thinking about when you’ll start having children…maybe then you can know the incandescent joy of my birthing superpower.
Or you could at least say, “Excuse me…for not having two kids” and cross the street.
