Long before I stumbled across my first blog, I was a regular reader of The Disgruntled Housewife. From time to time, Nikol Lohr posted a little essay to her wonderful website. I hadn’t been back for a long time but stopped by tonight and discovered a charming little section I hadn’t seen before.
I don’t want kids. Sometimes I like kids okay, sometimes they’re funny or smart, but I don’t want one growing inside me like a tape worm. They grow in there and press down all your organs and give you incessant heartburn and make you have to pee all the time and make your ankles swell so the only shoes you can wear are flip-flops. And then when they’re finished leeching off you, they slide out like greasy little piglets all mucousy and pink.
Then afterwards, you have twenty years of no life of your own. If you do it right, anyway. And then a whole lifetime of worry. Like having a dog that outlives you and runs away all the time and chews up all your furniture and pees everywhere and hates you at least for a while no matter what. A dog that no matter how good you try to be is slightly embarrassed of you and will definitely lie and deceive you. A dog that won’t let you pet it and that talks back.
If you make it to the end you’ll be rewarded with a button (“Amen to that, sister!”) that randomly displays “shout(s) of support.” Who knew there were so many women who felt this way? Overturning Roe v. Wade won’t stop abortions. It will just make them hard to get and dangerous.
UPDATE: Nikol has shut down her site, alas.