Dear diary,
- thought it'd be funny starting at least one of my blogs this way, since I already feel so familiar with this medium and I like to think this is the place where I can open up and speek freely. As if common courtesy could ever stop me from saying what I want to say, but etiquette calls for a more curbed approach, doesn't it?
Anyways, today I spent another eight hours surrounded by children. Wait, let me rephrase that: I spent the day being ridden by kids - almost giving myself a hernia in the process, I sat an accumulated hour and a half sitting next to a trampoline while continuously chartering children on and off the thing, I spent the whole eight hours talking baby-talk and appearing to be visibly rivetted by everything they say. The baby-talk is propably what gets me the most, because I see it as a personal insult since it limits my vocabulary to saying empty phrases and dumbing everything down. Sometimes I find myself talking to them in English or Spanish even and I see that look in their face, that confused look that says to me: dumb it down, Laurens, the kids aren't getting it! And most of the time I heed the little voice inside my head, but there are times when I just think: fuck it, they gotta learn somewhere, right?
Another thing I learnt today is that I really, really want to have kids. And I want them pretty soon. I'd hate to be this father that has completely lost touch with what's going on in my children's heads. I want my kids to get my inside jokes, to understand the things I'm talking about. Of course, I'm not gonna force them to watch something they don't particularly like - wait, who am I kidding? As long as I've got majority rule on the remote control and a dvd collection at my disposal, I think I'll pretty much dominate the whole television scene, so they will have no other choice than to watch what I'm watching. Sort of a television-nazi, aren't I? Oh well, I'll just chalk it up to the same old saying: Daddy knows best. Why, you ask? Because Daddies are older and wiser, that's why! Parenting isn't a democracy, it's a meritocracy!
I want three kids. Four if two out of three are twins. Wouldn't want that last one to feel left out, now would we? Of course, if numero quatro are twins as well, we're going to have a little situation on our hands. But those are worries for later! Right now, I gotta meet the girl, fall in love, see where it's going and when she least expects it, BAM, knocked up! Naturally, I'm kidding. I'm not that kind of a dog. I'll buy her something shiny beforehand! I'm not a complete animal! That's how Casanova played it, you know? Probably waved some fake jewelry around and before he knew it: professional womanizer! - I can only imagine what Women's Rights Movements would make of all this! Bet I'll have set back feminism half a century or so!
Today the cutest thing happened at work. Every week or so, a wickedly cute kid would catch my eye and I become totally mesmerized by it! So, like clockwerk, this unbelievably charming kid scuttles across the day care, his face locked in between a smile and a cry. He runs into you and immediatly holds up his tiny little hands, wanting you to pick him up. At this point, there is zero hesitation and without wasting a millisecond, you take him into your arms. You put him on your lap and let his tiny hands run across your face - silently, you pray to God he hasn't touched anything nasty with them - and you just know you want to be a Dad so badly!
So while he's sitting on your lap, his arms resting on your sides, you can feel him looking around, trying to make sense of the world around him. And sometimes, - this is what I really wanted to say - when you move, even if just a little bit, you can feel his miniature hands clutching you slightly harder. That sense of protection and safety is what completely overtakes you. The idea that this little person, this child of barely 5 years old, is holding on to you, expecting you to keep him safe. I can't imagine a more fulfilling feeling than that.
I want three kids. Four if two out of three are twins. Wouldn't want that last one to feel left out, now would we? Of course, if numero quatro are twins as well, we're going to have a little situation on our hands. But those are worries for later! Right now, I gotta meet the girl, fall in love, see where it's going and when she least expects it, BAM, knocked up! Naturally, I'm kidding. I'm not that kind of a dog. I'll buy her something shiny beforehand! I'm not a complete animal! That's how Casanova played it, you know? Probably waved some fake jewelry around and before he knew it: professional womanizer! - I can only imagine what Women's Rights Movements would make of all this! Bet I'll have set back feminism half a century or so!
Today the cutest thing happened at work. Every week or so, a wickedly cute kid would catch my eye and I become totally mesmerized by it! So, like clockwerk, this unbelievably charming kid scuttles across the day care, his face locked in between a smile and a cry. He runs into you and immediatly holds up his tiny little hands, wanting you to pick him up. At this point, there is zero hesitation and without wasting a millisecond, you take him into your arms. You put him on your lap and let his tiny hands run across your face - silently, you pray to God he hasn't touched anything nasty with them - and you just know you want to be a Dad so badly!
So while he's sitting on your lap, his arms resting on your sides, you can feel him looking around, trying to make sense of the world around him. And sometimes, - this is what I really wanted to say - when you move, even if just a little bit, you can feel his miniature hands clutching you slightly harder. That sense of protection and safety is what completely overtakes you. The idea that this little person, this child of barely 5 years old, is holding on to you, expecting you to keep him safe. I can't imagine a more fulfilling feeling than that.
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