For crying out loud

Reading Am's entry today made me think about babies. People have been asking me about when we're having a child so much that I have perfected the art of staring at them until they shut up. I think it's rude to ask people personal questions (When are you getting married? When are you having a baby? How many times do you have sex a week? etc.) unless you're a close family member, or a close friend. Because, basically, it's none of your business.

Aaanyway, spitefulness aside, him and I have been discussing about procreating. And as usual, I get the willies (pun intended) even though it has not happened yet (So stop asking!). I do that a lot. I get nervous planning stuff, even though it's months and months away. We're only going abroad next week, and already a couple of nights ago I dreamt of running after him and being lost in an airport with my red suitcase. The very night he mentioned about kids to me (very tentatively though), I dreamt of a baby that grew so large it squished me. And it looked like Stewie. So I guess that counts as a nightmare, huh?

What was I talking about? Oh yes. Babies. Generally, I don't like them. I'm hoping that when I have one of my own my mind would change, or else I'm screwed. Because despite not loving the smell of diapers or drool, I do want a family (and a cat, if possible). And I hope that when I do, I would love my kids, because, let's face it, they would probably only love me for the first 10 years or so and hate me for a long, long time.


Hana - not a baby but often acts like one.
(Taken from here.)

Oh hey, guess what? Tomorrow's Friday! Where did the week go?!