Upon finding out that a friend of mine is expecting a baby I’ve been thinking. And I’ve come to a rather gloomy conclusion: I don’t think I’d make a very good parent.
To be a parent you need patience. Buckets of the stuff by the looks of things. I, unfortunately do not possess enough patience to que in MacDonalds without getting irate, let alone spend any decent length of time with a child.
Also. What do you do with children? Children and me have nothing in common besides maybe Adventure Time. And I’m pretty sure they don’t get Jakes jokes anyway. We can’t go to the pub, movies, walking, out to dinner, they can’t play games until they’re a few years old and even then its probably going to be Mario (which sucks). I can’t have a decent conversation with them, they’re expensive and loud and messy.
And you know what. That’s children. I get it. But what if I put up with all of its shit and it doesn’t like me and I don’t like it? Or even worse, what if it’s like me and doesn’t like anybody?
I think I’m probably grumpy enough for two anyway. Let’s keep another Jim out of the picture for now eh.