By Lady Lolita, 12th April 2017

I Don’t Like your Child

I Love My kids, I Even Like a Couple of Others. But Yours? Nope.

I Love My kids, I Even Like a Couple of Others. But Yours? Nope.

It’s a common misconception that once a woman gives birth she likes all children. But I don’t like your child, and I’m sure many other women don’t either…

Mothers generally like their own offspring, and definitely love their children to the stars and back and develop an unhealthy obsession with everything they do until their dying day, but that doesn’t mean all mums will like your child. I know that my own kids may at times be annoying, but they are my annoying and I can cope with that; because in my eyes they are superbly arranged genes, perfectly packaged in snazzily dressed bundles of awesomeness.

Whereas your kid I just don’t like. Honestly. I don’t.

Let me explain why in 10 easy steps…

1: See your baby’s adorably chubby cheeks that you just can’t help wanting to squeeze and squidge and cutie wootie woo woo you ickly pickly wickly?
Well I just see an ugly, fat faced child.

2: You know how your kid is so advanced that he can talk way before anyone else’s, and he is so smart that he likes to have mummy’s attention at all times and ask every little question that pops into his oversized brain?
I just want him to shut the fuck up.

3: Look how your toddler can run. Wow! He is so fast and nimble on his tippy toes. I bet it is so much fun for you to keep chasing him up and down my house as he weaves in and out of my furniture. I’m glad you are enjoying yourself.
I’m just waiting for the inevitable moment he smacks his head on one of the overly sharp corners of my (toddler height) dinner table and you have to take him home.

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4: There’s nothing more beautiful than the sound of children laughing…unless it’s the summer holidays and you want some peace and quiet and the little fuckers are outside your bedroom window having fun way past their bedtime. You hear pure joy. I become that neighbour whose door the kids dare each other to knock on.


5: Twins are so adorable in their matching outfits and their secret little languages. Aren’t they?
No. They freak the fuck out of me. Have you not seen The Shining? Please, don’t make me look at their creepily identical faces, it’s like a mirror has come to life.

6: Oh how sweet, a small child has appeared beside me at my restaurant table and is watching me eat. Anyone know who this child belongs to? And why he is watching me so intently? Are they his parents, the ones pretending not to notice my growing discomfort as they eat their meal peacefully? Someone take this child away, his eyes are far too close to my fork and I won’t be held responsible.

7: I’m on an airplane and there are children. Even if they are my own I am not hanging around to see which one screams, cries, vomits or throws stuff first. It’s a confined space 30,000 feet up in the air and I don’t need any added shit. So I will do all I can to get the pilot to let me sit on his knee. They don’t allow kids in the cockpit, they aren’t stupid!

8: I am putting my shopping on the supermarket conveyor belt and your child is standing on it. He is whining for sweets. He is throwing stuff out of the trolley. He is touching my food from my trolley, my stuff. Yes, I know it’s difficult going shopping with children…especially when surrounded by your irritating fuckers.

9: Your child is adventurous, boisterous, energetic, playful and mischievous. Or is he just a mean little bully throwing his weight around in the playground? Don’t worry. I won’t say anything, or tut, or tell you how to be a better mother or embarrass you by moving my children away from him. No. I will just whisper something very quietly, within your snotty child’s ear shot, until he turns a nice shade of pale. See, not so playful now.


10: You know before you had kids and there was a baby crying on the bus? On, and on, and on, and on it went and you hated it. I mean really hated that incessant screaming bastard because you had had a hard day at work and it was making your headache worse? Well that all stops when you become a mum yourself. Instead I smile at the other woman in a silent act of camaraderie, because I know what it’s like to be that mum, and I know it’s not the wee ones fault. Except inside my head I am screaming Shut That Fucking Brat Up!!! But I will still smile, because it’s not my kid everyone hates right now, it’s yours.

So there you have it. My children are far from perfect, but yours are worse… I just won’t tell you to your face.


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